


An Invincible Summer

by Brooklyn_Babylon



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adoption, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - Historical, American Harry Styles, American Louis Tomlinson, American South, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crisco as Lube, Epilepsy, Farmer Harry Styles, Georgia, Harry is 20, Homophobia in the military, Homophobic Language, Just one scene where Harry gets drunk, Louis is 22, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of WWII, Minor Character Death, New York City, Period-Typical Homophobia, Photographer Harry Styles, Reading, Riding, Rimming, So Much Reading, Virgin Harry Styles, Voyeurism, Watermelon Farming, Writer Louis Tomlinson, the death happens off screen and before the story starts, they kind of share that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 44,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25248982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brooklyn_Babylon/pseuds/Brooklyn_Babylon
Summary: Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn't ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son.The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 217
Kudos: 525





	1. June

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, I set out to write a short PWP––this time with some sexy barn sex. The next thing I knew, I had almost 45K of this angst monster. I don't know. I blame [India](http://www.indiaalphawhiskey.tumblr.com). LOL! No, really, I thank her for pushing me to run with a very loose idea inspired by a text post on Tumblr. And then, when I wanted to pack it all in because I was freaking out, she encouraged me and pushed me to finish it. And then she pushed me to make it better than it already was. India, I can't thank you enough for putting up with me and for being my friend.
> 
> Thank you to [Liz](http://www.cuethetommo.tumblr.com) for always helping me with the big picture plotting, for wanting to read this when I was ready to toss it out, and for making me rewrite that fight scene over and over until I got it right. Thank you [Mac](http://www.realitybetterthanfiction.tumblr.com) for all of your awesome suggestions and your frankly hilarious inner monologue as you read. And thank you [Holly](http://www.metal-eye.tumblr.com) for "south-picking" because it made this city girl feel a hell of a lot better about writing Harry as a Georgia farm boy. I love you all. 
> 
> Having said all of that, they are all amazing and probably caught all of my mistakes. But I am to blame for whatever you may find. I did my best.
> 
> This story is set in the U.S. in Southern Georgia in 1946. The names of places are real, but their locations are probably not entirely accurate, although I did my best to make them so. The same goes for everything else... I did a ton of research, but if you're a history buff or know random stuff about random things, you may find errors. I hope not. 
> 
> Given the time and place this fic is set in, there is period-typical homophobia, and while it's important to the story, I tried to make it fairly mild. However, if it's something that really bothers you, please feel free to come ask me about it, or skip this one. Additionally, I opted to not delve into the racism of this time period as it seemed like a much bigger story than I could tell. It is, however, otherwise as accurate as I could make it. 
> 
> There are a lot of quotes in this fic, because Harry and Louis spend a lot of time reading to each other. I've listed all of the books and authors at the end of each chapter where they appear.
> 
> The title is from The Stranger by Albert Camus which is quoted in this first chapter.

**June**

_'If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are gone, either write things worth reading or do things worth writing.' - Carson McCullers_

  
  


The sun beat down relentlessly as Louis walked, making it feel like the heat of the earth was boiling through the holes in his worn out boots. To be honest, it wasn’t even the sun that was so brutal, it was the damn humidity.

 _‘Like swimmin’ in pea soup’_ he’d heard someone say the other day.

Smiling at the thought, he shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked ahead, taking in the way the kudzu had engulfed every tree and fence post for miles. The flowers’ faint grape soda scent tickled childhood memories that squeezed his heart a little too tightly. 

He stopped for a minute to write it all down––the feeling of the sweat dripping down his temple, the weariness in the way the waitress he’d talked to spoke about the blazing heat, and the way the kudzu seemed to swallow everything that sat still for too long. Putting his notebook away, Louis hitched his bag a bit higher on his shoulder and continued walking. He’d lost track of how long he’d been on this road, and how long it’d been since he’d seen anything other than endless rows of cotton crops.

Working as a journalist hadn’t exactly prepared Louis for life on rural Georgia farms. But a few months under his belt had given him, among other things, more callouses than he’d ever imagined, a slight southern twang when he spoke, and the beginnings of what he thought might be a damn good novel. Pulling a ragged bandana from his back pocket, Louis wiped at the sweat rolling down his neck and heaved a sigh. He needed to find a new place to settle for a while. 

As if fate had decided it had also had enough of his wandering, Louis rounded the next bend in the road to find a faded red sign marking a wide, well-kept path on his right. White Oaks Farm and their help wanted sign beckoned to him. 

\----

Having rung the doorbell, Louis stood on the front porch of the main house, hat in hand, nervously fixing his sweat-matted hair. He could hear the sound of dogs barking and a woman’s voice calling, ‘Annie, git the door, will ya?’ A minute later, a pinch-faced girl was staring at him through the screen.

“Hi there, darling. Is your mama or daddy at home? I’m looking for some work.”

Rubbing the back of her hand along her runny nose, the girl nodded and turned back the way she came, returning quickly with a tall, heavy-set man holding her hand. 

Opening the screen door to step out onto the porch, he reached his free hand out to shake Louis’. “Hello, boy. Annie here tells me yer lookin’ for work.” 

“Yes, sir. I am.” Gesturing with his hat towards the path he’d walked up, “I saw your help wanted sign down at the bottom of the hill there.”

The farmer squinted his eyes at Louis as he ran his hand through his thinning grey hair. “Where ya from, son?”

With a smile, Louis tried to sound more confident than he felt. “I’m from New York City, sir. But I’ve been down this way for some time now. I guess my accent’s all just blended up a bit.”

“Hoo-ey. That’s a long ways ya travelled from home. Whatcha doin’ in these parts then?”

“Well mostly I’m looking for work. I’m pretty handy in lots of ways… whatever you might need, I can probably do it.” Taking a deep breath he pushed on. “And I'm a writer, sir. I’m writing about the good folks out here and what farm life is like. But I do that on my own time… it won’t interfere with me workin’ hard for you.”

“Well now, that sounds right inerestin’. I ain’t much of a reader… but my boy is. He’s always got his nose buried in somethin’.” Laughing lightly, he scratched at his stubbled chin and shifted the conversation back to work. “We definitely need help ‘round here. But t’ be honest, it’s been pretty rough the last few seasons, so I can’t pay ya much. But I can give ya a place t’ sleep, and food t’ eat, and if this season’s better’n the last one, I’ll make up the higher wage at the end. Sound alright?” 

That sounded like a pretty decent deal to Louis given that he hadn’t had much to eat or a roof over his head in weeks. Smiling widely, Louis shook the farmer’s hand firmly. 

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it!”

“And ain’t no need to call me sir ‘round here. Everybody just calls me Big Jim.”

“Well thank you, um...Big Jim. M’ name’s Louis. Tomlinson. I’m grateful for the kindness and I‘m happy to start whenever you want.”

Just then a woman’s soft voice interrupted them from inside the house. “Jim...don’t make the poor boy start work now. It’s nearly suppertime and he’s dog tired, look at ‘im.”

Louis flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to interrupt your supper. I can start tomorrow if you just point me to somewhere I can sleep.”

“Now that’s not what I meant, sweetheart.” With a smile, she opened the door wider so he could step through. “Set yer bag right down there and go wash yer hands. You can join us for supper tonight, then I’ll have one a’ the boys show ya where you’ll be sleepin’.”

\----

The warm sounds of conversation and laughter drifted from the kitchen as Louis made his way in after washing up. 

“Well, there he is!” Big Jim’s loud voice announced Louis’ presence to a much larger group than he’d expected. “Everyone, this here’s Louis. He’ll be workin’ with us fer a while. Make him feel welcome.”

With wide eyes, Louis’ took in the group gathered around the kitchen table. Annie was there, with two older girls and the woman Louis had met on the porch, and on the other side of the table sat three young men. It was hard to tell for sure how old they were, as two had skin that was tanned and weathered from years spent working outdoors, and the gaunt appearance of men who’d seen more than their fair share of hard times. The third, though… the third made Louis’ breath catch in his throat. 

_His_ skin wasn’t roughened by the wind and sun, or covered in a 3-day beard growth. Instead, he was alabaster-pale with a rosy flush on his boyish cheeks. His hair was just a little longer than men wore it in these parts, and the unruly curls looked so soft and silky that Louis’ fingers twitched at his sides with the desire to touch them.

He quickly averted his eyes before he was caught staring too long. Clearing his throat, he smiled and greeted everyone before taking the empty seat next to one of the older girls. Introducing herself as Willa, she proceeded to go around the table giving him everyone’s name which, lord help him, his brain was never going to hold on to. Except for Harry. The boy’s name was Harry and Louis didn’t think he’d ever heard a sweeter name or seen a prettier smile… all plush, pink lips and dimples. 

\----

By the time Louis finally pushed himself away from the table, full of chicken and fried okra, Willa, Annie, and the middle sister, Adelaide, had excused themselves to clear and wash dishes. The older men, who’d turned out to be regular farm hands, said their thank yous to Mama Jean and good night to everyone else as they headed to their bunks for the evening. 

Big Jim was chewing on a toothpick that looked like he’d whittled it down himself, as he tuned to Louis. “Startin’ time’s not too bad tomorrow, son. We meet up at six. Harry can fill y’ in when he shows ya where you’ll be sleepin’.”

Louis’ heart skipped a beat, although he hoped his smile looked relaxed to Big Jim. “Looking forward to it. And honestly, I’m dead on my feet, so I’m happy to be turning in now.” 

“Well, let me get ya settled in then, Louis.” It was the first time Harry had spoken the whole evening and his unexpectedly deep, slow voice dripped like honey over Louis… he wanted to drown in it. 

“Thanks… Harry.” Louis cleared his throat, embarrassed by how dry and raspy his nervousness made him sound. “I’ll just grab my bag and I’m all set.”

\----

The setting sun had barely cooled the air, but the crickets were already singing as the two of them walked to the barn. Harry had grabbed two lanterns to light their way, stopping at the edge of the porch to resituate the towels and blanket he carried, handing the extra lantern to Louis to hold. 

“Usually you can see your way without ‘em," he said quietly, gesturing with his chin toward the lights they held. “But the moon’s new and not as bright. Don’t want ya breakin’ an ankle in a gopher hole on yer first day.”

Louis peeked over at Harry as he spoke, noticing his crooked smile and a shallow dimple. His heart skipped a beat at the gentle teasing. He hadn’t noticed that Harry was taller than him until they were walking side by side, but now Louis couldn’t take his eyes off his endless torso and lean muscles as he twisted to point out the fields where they’d be working come morning. 

“Everyone’ll meet over there at sun up.” Harry was swinging his lantern in the direction of the wide open space past the barns. “We got a decent size crew usually, but ya never know if all of ‘em’s gonna show.” He turned his face back to Louis and his luminous green eyes were wide as he smirked. “Sometimes the evenin’ hangover’s just too much for ‘em, I guess.”

Louis smiled at his feet as he listened to Harry tell a story about how someone named Hank had once fallen asleep in the field due to too much whiskey the night before and had been so sunburnt and bug bitten by the time the rest of the crew found him, “His face was so swolled up, barely knew it was him!” 

Harry’s soft giggle made Louis’ insides flip. How was he going to survive a summer working with this boy?

As they reached the barn, Harry set his things down and slid open the heavy door, allowing Louis to follow him inside. Big Jim had told Louis it was just a storage barn these days, the animals were kept elsewhere, but still, the powerful smell of old barn boards mixed with the earthy scent of dust, dirt, and grain hit him before his eyes could adjust to the dark. And then there was the hay… that familiar tangy smell of alfalfa and clover blended with it all and somehow made the city boy in Louis loosen up and relax just a bit.

Harry indicated the staircase that led up to the loft as he hung his lantern on a post near it. “That’s where you’ll be stayin’ then. There’s a bed up there.” He reached his hand out to Louis to take his lantern and light the way up as he continued to talk. “There’s an outhouse through that door and to the left. And when you wanna clean up, there’s a shower out back as well.” 

Louis followed up behind him, and as he poked his head into the loft space, Harry was just shaking the blanket out over the bed. Shyly, he turned to Louis, indicating the quilt he’d spread out. “You’ll be warm enough, I reckon. But I always like an extra blanket… just in case.” His cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed by offering that bit of personal information. 

Louis set his bag down then straightened up, looking at Harry straight on for the first time since they’d met. Lord, he was lovely. Taking a steadying breath, Louis tried to clear his head. Having a crush on a pretty boy might be something he could get away with back home, but he very much doubted it was something to indulge in here in Wilcox county, Georgia. 

Clapping his hands together and startling a pair of barn swallows into fluttering around their nest, Louis cleared his throat. “So, give me a quick rundown of what I need for tomorrow morning.”

“Well, I think Big Jim is gonna have ya start with the watermelons tomorrow.” Getting distracted by the way the word “wahtuhmelons” slowly rolled off of Harry’s tongue, Louis nearly missed him asking, “Have ya picked melon before?” 

“Uh. No… but I’ve done a fair bit of picking. Onions and peaches mostly...”

“Well, we got a crew that does the cuttin’ but I’m guessin’ Big Jim’s gonna have ya doin’ the haulin’ first. Cuttin’ takes more practice than ya’d think.” Harry stifled a yawn before he continued. “Clem’ll drive the field truck up behind the house and take all y’all out t’ the watermelon field at six.”

“All y’all? Are you not picking tomorrow?”

Harry rubbed a hand along the back of his neck as he looked at his feet for a second. “No… I, uh. I’ll prob’ly be with the goats in the mornin’. But I’ll see ya tomorrow at some point.”

Moving towards the stairs, Harry pointed towards the little table by the bed. “There’s matches in the drawer there, if the lantern goes out while yer readin’ or somethin’.” 

As Louis unpacked his bag, he remembered Big Jim’s earlier comment, and looked back at where Harry was starting to walk down the stairs. “Do you like reading, Harry?”

After a brief pause, Harry answered with a shy smile. “S’ my favorite thing t’ do.”

“Me, too. Maybe we can talk about books some time.”

Harry’s smile grew a little wider. “Goodnight, Louis. See ya tomorrow.” And then he was down the stairs and out the barn.

Stripping off his dirty clothes, Louis pulled the quilt back and threw himself down on the mattress. Running his hands along his face he mumbled to himself. “Jesus, Louis, get a grip. _Maybe we can talk about books_. What are you doing?”

Grabbing the leather notebook from his bag, he jotted a few things down before blowing out the flame on the lantern and pulling the quilt over his chest. Louis stared moodily into the darkness until he finally fell into a dreamless sleep.

\----

Morning came much too quickly, but as Louis sat on the field truck rumbling its way out to the watermelons, he supposed it could be worse. He could have chosen a dairy farm and have already been out milking the cows for the last two hours. 

As they pulled in, he gaped at the size of Big Jim’s farm. There were teams working in numerous fields harvesting everything from bush beans to okra, and at the far end he thought he could make out a peach tree orchard. But today was about watermelons. The cutters had already begun removing the fruit from their vines and placing them out in rows for the haulers. 

Harvesting watermelon, Louis soon realized, was both backbreaking work and a delicate business. The melons seemed to get heavier by the minute, and the constant repetition of bending to pick one up, then twisting to toss it to the next man in line, required strength and concentration. 'A dropped melon is money lost,' the crew foreman reminded him as they set to work. 

Hours later, Louis could barely move his arms, his shirt was soaked with sweat, and he’d been transferred to stand inside the truck bed to help with loading, which blessedly was a slightly easier job. But not by much. By the time the men sat in the field truck to head back to the farmhouse, Louis was wondering if he might have made a mistake signing up for this job. 

Hobbling off the flatbed to make his way to the barn to clean up, he heard a familiar deep voice calling his name. Turning around, he caught Harry stumbling across the grass like a newborn deer––legs awkwardly moving a bit too fast and ankles a bit too wobbly to support him upright for long. Somehow he still managed to look beautiful.

Panting slightly when he reached Louis, Harry laughed and bent over with his hands on his knees. “H- hey. How’d the first day go?”

Louis couldn’t help but grin. This silly boy had run from god knows where, so quickly that he was out of breath, just to ask a question that he could have asked in an hour’s time at the dinner table. “Well, I’m not gonna lie and say it was easy. But it was alright… the crew worked hard, said we picked more today than any day last week, so that feels good.” Then he raised both his arms up, playfully posing like a bodybuilder. “Got my arm workout in, too.”

As if in slow motion, Louis watched as Harry reached out and wrapped a hand around Louis’ bicep, squeezing slightly. “Mmhm. Mighty strong. Looks good.”

In the silence that followed, Louis’ mouth dropped open slightly as he turned his head to see Harry’s eyes open wide, pulling his hand away quickly as if he’d been burned. 

“Oh. I- I’m sorry. That… I didn’t mean that. I…” Starting to back away as he stammered out his apology, Harry looked everywhere but at Louis. 

“Harry…” Louis’ voice was quiet, as if he was soothing a skittish animal. “Hey… it’s OK. I’m not upset.”

Harry stood, toes pointed inwards, wringing his hands in front of him. “S- sometimes I forget myself… it weren’t polite, what I did. I’m sorry.”

Louis knew that look, whether it was a worry of being caught, or the fear that someone might mistake your intentions. Either way, he could tell Harry was agitated, and more than anything, Louis wanted Harry to feel safe around him.

With a gentle smile, he stepped forward and patted Harry’s shoulder. “Really... it’s OK. Please don’t worry.”

Turning away to head to the barn, Louis looked back and smiled. “Just gonna wash up and then I’ll see you at dinner, ‘kay?”

Running a hand through his wild curls, Harry bit his lip and gave a little wave. “OK. See ya then.”

\----

Dinner at Big Jim and Mama Jean’s house was loud. Everyone’s voices rose to talk over each other and no one really listened to anyone’s replies. They were all friendly people, but even Louis, who enjoyed a raucous night of laughter and storytelling, was exhausted by the end of the meal. Sneaking a glance at Harry every now and then, Louis realized why he’d barely spoken the first night. His quiet, thoughtful way of speaking was no match for Big Jim’s booming voice or Adelaide’s crow-like laughter.

Catching his eye, Louis sent him an understanding grimace after a particularly loud exchange had made Harry flinch. The flush that colored his cheeks at being caught was softened by the private smile he flashed before looking at the table. 

Mama Jean came back in and set a large bowl of sliced watermelon on the table. “Somethin’ a little refreshin’ for y’all.”

As everyone chattered on about the day, Louis was distracted by watching Harry eat his watermelon. He’d never seen anything quite like it before and he wasn’t sure he’d survive seeing it again. Harry bit into the fruit as if he’d never tasted anything quite as exquisite––eyes fluttering shut, big mouth closing over the juicy flesh as he leaned in close to the table… face nearly shoved into the fruit, savoring it, humming happily. As he pulled back, his lips and chin dripped with wetness and Louis had to divert his eyes quickly, his cock perking up in his pants as more indecent thoughts flashed through his mind. 

“So… I hear ya survived yer first day in the melon fields, Louis.” Big Jim’s voice rose above the others, catching Louis’ attention. 

Grateful for the distraction, Louis handed his plate to Willa as she rose to clear the table. “Sure did. I was tellin’ Harry last night that I’d had some picking experience, but nothing prepared me for _that_!” Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, he laughed lightly. “I hope I can move in the morning.”

Harry’s head had jerked up at the mention of his name, wiping his face with a napkin, he joined in laughing with the other men still at the table. His wide smile and dimples made Louis’ insides feel warm, and Louis found himself feeling slightly guilty for his filthy thoughts a few minutes earlier. 

Big Jim chuckled as he rose from the table. “Well… I have faith in ya. Yer no sissy boy. Bright and early tomorrow, we’ll be doin’ it again, son.” 

Louis’ heart stuttered at Big Jim’s comment, but no one else seemed to notice. He knew that language was common, so he kept his head down lest he look like it bothered him, but it made his skin crawl thinking about Harry’s anxious behavior earlier.

As everyone left the table, Harry lowered his voice and leaned in towards Louis. “I’m real sorry ‘bout earlier. I… I know I already said that, but I hope ya can forgive me.”

Louis hadn’t expected him to bring it up again, and he let a breath out before answering. “There’s honestly nothing to forgive. I know some people down here are a little more… conservative about things. But it really was nothing.” 

Harry's relief was so clearly evident that Louis’ heart ached for him. “It’s been a really long time since I had a friend ‘round here… I was worried I scared ya off on the first day.” Harry shifted in his seat as he spoke. “I mean… I know we’re not really friends, but I think, maybe, we could be one day?” 

Resting his elbow on the table, Louis propped his chin in his hand and grinned. “I think we sure _could_ be proper friends, Harry. I’d like that.”

\----

The next few days at White Oaks were much the same: up early, work hard, see Harry at dinner, sleep like the dead, wake up, do it all again. But on the fifth day, everything changed. 

It had started off the same as usual. Louis began the day as a hauler in the watermelon field. By this point he was starting to get used to the strain on his back and arms, and could feel himself getting stronger each day. It was still exhausting, but at least he didn’t feel like he was going to die. In fact, he felt pretty good as he joked with the crew while he took a break, standing in a small patch of shade at the rear of the truck. 

Later, he’d say that he’d heard the creaking––it had started off like an intermittent knocking that turned into a terrible, scraping whine––but couldn’t figure out what it was. Before anyone knew it, the truck’s back gate had swung open wildly––the pressure of hundreds of pounds of fruit incorrectly stacked against it had caused the metal locks holding it shut to twist and break off, resulting in an avalanche of watermelon. 

Harry would tell him later that he’d been incredibly lucky because he had been hit by the gate first, which had knocked him out of the way of most of the wreckage. He’d only ended up with cuts, bruises, and a badly sprained wrist from an accident that truthfully could have killed him.

“Death by watermelon.” Louis lay on the couch in the farmhouse, his arm flung over his eyes. “I don’t think I can imagine a more embarrassing way to go.”

Harry chuckled as he sat by Louis’ hip, gingerly holding his injured hand, as he gently rubbed a salve over it. “Well, it makes fer a good story though, don’t it?”

Louis raised the arm covering his eyes and glared at Harry, making him giggle. Shifting his gaze to his hand, he raised a suspicious eyebrow. “What are you doing with that stuff anyway?”

“It’s good fer the swellin’. Now shush up and take this aspirin while I wrap yer wrist.”

Harry’s fingers were long and elegant––looking more like the delicate hands of a pianist, than someone who toiled on a farm. Lost in his daydreams about how good it felt to be touched again, Louis sighed as Harry began to carefully wrap an ACE bandage with the surety of someone who’d done it more than once. When he was finished, Louis smiled up at him. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Harry smiled warmly as he moved Louis’ bandaged hand to rest across his stomach. “It’s my pleasure. I’m just glad ya weren’t more seriously hurt.”

“How long do you think until I can work again?” With a small frown, Louis maneuvered himself so he was sitting more upright. “I’m a bit worried Big Jim’s gonna get impatient and send me on my way.”

“There’s plenty ya can still help with though.” Harry looked as worried as Louis felt. “I mean, maybe ya can’t be pickin’, but surely ya can help me with the goats and chickens and for sure take on some a’ the paintin’ that needs doin’ and… and I _know_ we can find more.”

“There you go, taking care of me again,” Louis joked, winking at Harry. 

Harry’s face flushed pink as he quietly mumbled, “Well, I like takin’ care a’ people… it’s one of the few things ‘round here I get t’ do.”

Louis cocked his head as he softly asked, “What d’ya mean?”

Sighing deeply, Harry looked over his shoulder towards the kitchen where Mama Jean and the girls were setting up for dinner. “Y’should be gettin’ some rest. Why don’t ya head back to yer room and I’ll check an’ see if there’s some dinner I can bring up fer ya.”

Before Louis could answer, Harry had headed off to the kitchen, leaving Louis to make his way to the barn with his thoughts swirling. He’d only been back in his room a few minutes before he heard the barn door open and Harry’s voice calling out.

“Ya up there, Louis? I brought somethin’ fer ya t’ eat.”

“Yeah, come on up. ‘Fraid I’m not much help, though.”

Harry’s curly head and broad shoulders appeared at the top of the steep stairs, with a soft smile aimed at Louis. “That’s alright. I can do it all.”

Setting out the lunch pails he’d brought on the table next to Louis’ bed, Harry pulled a set of flatware, wrapped in a napkin, from the pocket of his overalls and bowed. “Dinner is served, m’ lord.”

Grinning widely, Louis laughed and joined in on the joke with his own poor approximation of a British accent. “Well, well, my good sir. What have we today?”

Returning to his soft southern drawl, Harry answered, “Mama Jean made meatloaf tonight and I brought ya some extra biscuits, ‘cause they’re my favorite.” Harry smiled, conspiratorially. “And the girls made peach cobbler today, so I brought ya a bowl a’ that, too.”

“Gosh, it all smells so good. Are you gonna stay and join me?” At Harry’s hesitation Louis couldn’t help but plead a little. “It'll be a lot quieter here, and I promise not to ask any more nosy questions.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped as he huffed out a laugh. “I didn’t mind ya askin’. I just didn’t wanna talk where my sisters could catch wind of it. _They’re_ the nosy ones!”

He pulled a chair over from where it had been leaning against the barn wall, and sat himself in front of Louis. “I didn’t really think to bring an extra fork or nothin’. But I’ll keep ya company and then I’ll eat when I get back t’ the house. It’s fine.”

“Don’t be silly, pull up closer and we’ll share.”

Louis put the food out, like a cramped picnic, as Harry pulled his chair closer and they sat together, chatting idly, while they ate. Mama Jean had packed more than enough for both of them, so by the time they’d finished the cobbler they both felt ready to burst. 

“So…” Louis tentatively began. “Do you wanna talk about what you said in the house earlier, ‘bout not gettin’ to do much more than take care of people?”

Harry ran his hand through his hair and breathed in deeply. “I- I’m sorry I said that to ya. It sounded like I was complainin’, and really I ain’t got a right to complain.”

“Now, that ain’t true. Everyone’s got a right. Your worries don’t have to be worse than everyone else’s. All that matters is that they feel hard for _you_ , right?”

“Yeah... I guess so. I just feel like I should be grateful for what I got and not be wantin’ more.”

“I don’t know, Harry. I think you can have both. I’m very grateful for opportunities I have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t keep wanting to grow and learn and experience. You know?”

Harry looked at him, contemplatively for a moment and then giggled. “Yer pretty smart for a farm hand, Louis.”

With an air of mock offense, Louis turned his nose up. “I’ll have you know, I’m quite well educated. I just happen to like it out here in the boondocks.”

Grinning, his dimples digging deep into his cheeks, Harry began to pack the food containers back up. “Well, I’m glad ya found yer way out t’ these here parts. I could use a little intellectual stimulation.”

“Well, I’m happy to oblige.” Louis paused and then decided to push one last time. “So, since your sisters are nowhere to be found, do you wanna talk?”

“All this build up is makin’ it sound like it’s something interestin’. I’m afraid yer gonna be disappointed when I tell ya the story.”

Reaching out to touch Harry’s arm, Louis gently said, “Harry. I really doubt anything you tell me is gonna be anything _but_ interesting.”

Swallowing audibly, Harry nodded as he stared at Louis’ hand clutching his forearm. “OK... I guess I just have to start at the beginnin’.” Frowning slightly, he blew out a deep breath and sat up a bit straighter. “You see… Big Jim and Mama Jean aren’t my real parents. My mama and daddy died in a car crash when I was five.” At Louis’ choked sound of distress, Harry’s eyes flicked to him. “S’ Ok, Louis. I was with ‘em in the car. But… I mean, obviously I didn’t die.”

Louis gave Harry a wobbly smile at his attempt at lightening the mood and waited for him to continue. “Mama Jean and Big Jim were my parents' best friends. They took me in and raised me like their own. And when their three girls came along, they _still_ treated me like their own.” Picking at a loose thread on his overalls, Harry frowned and began to chew his lower lip. “I was real lucky such good people helped me when I had nothin’.”

“They seem like really kind folks, Harry. You _were_ lucky. And I can tell how grateful you feel toward ‘em.”

“The thing is, I hit my head pretty bad in that accident. And then I started havin’ these problems around the time Willa was little and Adelaide was only just born.”

“What kinda problems?” 

“Um… I started havin’ seizures? Like, I would sometimes go stiff and my arms and legs would shake and I’d faint outta nowhere.” Harry mimed an approximation of what his seizures looked like in order to better explain, blushing and swooping his hair back out of his face when he stopped. “Mama Jean said it was real scary. I don’t remember none of it though. The doctors said the accident gave me somethin’ called epilepsy and I have t’ take medicine for it so I don’t have the seizures no more.”

Harry looked like he was steeling himself to continue, so Louis kept his questions to himself for the time being. “Anyway, the doctors told Big Jim and Mama Jean that not gettin’ enough rest and too much stress weren’t good for me, and they were scared I might have a seizure while on a tractor or somethin’, so they decided I wouldn’t be allowed t’ do any of the hard farm labor.” 

“So they don’t let you do anything at all?”

Harry rubbed a finger over his eyebrow, a light blush coloring his cheeks. “I basically take care of the animals, take care of the house, and I was allowed to stay in school a bit longer. Which was nice, I guess, ‘cause I really liked it.” He stopped his fidgeting and sat up straighter so he could look Louis square in the eye. “So, that’s why I was sayin’ the other night that I ain’t really had friends here in a long time ‘cause the other farm hands are funny ‘round me. Not sure if it’s ‘cause they think I’m stuck up ‘cause I don’t work in the fields with ‘em, or if they look down on me ‘cause I wasn’t allowed to enlist ‘cause a’ the epilepsy, or… I dunno… other things.” 

“I’m so sorry. It sounds like things have been real rough for you.” Louis searched Harry’s face, trying to figure out the right thing to say. “I know people can be pretty awful about someone not servin’, I- I’ve definitely seen how it makes people react. But it’s not that you didn’t wanna go.” Louis’ stomach felt a little queasy at the topic––he didn’t want Harry to start asking him about his own service record.

Clearing his throat, he caught Harry’s eye. “Anyway, I don’t know anything about epilepsy. But I do know I’d like to keep being your friend, if that’s OK with you.”

The happiness that flooded Harry’s face made Louis’ chest ache. “I’d really like that. And I’ll make sure we got plenty for ya to do ‘til your wrist heals, so ya don’t have to worry none about Big Jim.”

Louis laughed quietly and stood up from where he’d been sitting on the bed. “Well, I think I get the better end of that deal. All _you_ get is my friendship.”

“I think I’m makin’ out alright, Lou.” Harry smiled shyly at his boots as he stood and reached for the lunch pails. 

As he started to head out, Louis suddenly realized how much trouble he was going to have with the use of just one hand. Without giving it full thought, he spoke up. “Harry? Before you go, could you help me with these?”

As Harry turned around, Louis was awkwardly using his good hand to try and undo the closures on his overalls. Setting the pails down, Harry took a step closer to stand in front of him. Dropping his hand, Louis looked up into Harry’s face as he concentrated on the buckles. There was so little space between them, Louis was certain Harry must have been able to hear the pounding of his heart. 

In fact, they were so close that Louis could count the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of Harry’s nose and see the honey colored highlights in his dark curls. Shutting his eyes tightly, afraid that he might lean in and press a kiss to Harry’s cheek if he looked any longer, all of Louis’ other senses were heightened. 

He heard the click of metal as Harry unlocked the first clasp, and felt the strap fall against his back. Three more beats of his heart and he heard the other buckle unclip and felt the bib of his overalls fall down to his waist. Louis opened his eyes to find Harry staring at him, mouth slightly agape, pupils blown.

They stood that way until Harry opened his sinful mouth and his rough voice dripped out. “Do ya need help with the shirt buttons, too?”

Louis knew he could probably do those on his own, but he nodded jerkily in assent. Harry blinked slowly, his tongue slipping out to drag along his lower lip, as his fingers slipped between Louis’ shirt collar and his neck to allow him to slip the first button through its hole. Every part of Harry that touched him felt like fire against Louis’ skin, burning him up like every wicked dream Louis had ever had, and yet, all Harry had done was brush his fingers against Louis’ throat. 

Had Harry stepped closer? Or had Louis swayed into the welcoming heat of his body? He wasn’t sure, but it seemed that as each button was slowly undone for him, the gap between him and Harry grew smaller until all Louis had to do was turn his head and they’d be kissing. Harry’s peach-scented breath came in short puffs against Louis’ cheek; he was certain he was going to die from the soft sweetness of it as he tried, instead, to concentrate on the languid movement of Harry’s long fingers manipulating the buttons of his shirt. 

At last Louis’ shirt hung open, his undershirt keeping some semblance of propriety between them, and Harry let his hands fall to his sides as his eyes slowly raised to look into Louis’. He felt almost overwhelmed by the urge to reach up and grab a fistful of curls and tilt Harry’s head so he could lick into that luscious mouth. He could do it... Harry hadn’t moved away yet… 

“Harry? Ya still up there? Mama wants ya home. It’s laaaate!” Adelaide’s high pitched squawk called up from the barn floor. 

Harry jolted at her voice and took a step back, his eyes wide. Awkwardly he bent down to pick up the pails and rushed to the steps, turning around briefly to look over his shoulder, he paused and whispered, “‘Night Louis. I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”

And he was gone. 

\-----

Waking up with the sun was normal for Louis these days. However, having only one working hand was not. Struggling a bit getting himself up and dressed, he still managed to make it over to the farmhouse in time for breakfast. Big Jim and the rest of the farmhands had already left for the fields, but Harry and his sisters were still finishing up. 

“Mornin’ Louis.” Annie greeted him with a mouth full of food as only a 10-year old could. “Come sit next t’ me!”

Annie had declared Louis her favorite almost immediately and had taken a particular shine to the stories he told about his travels. Mama Jean was less fond of the stories, as she felt the big city held nothing for her girls to wonder about. As Louis took his spot at the table and helped himself to eggs and sausages, he snuck a glance at Harry and found him staring, quietly, at his nearly empty plate. 

Clearly something had happened between them last night. But he wasn’t quite sure how Harry felt about it. Whether he was scared or embarrassed or even confused, Louis felt it necessary to lessen the tension in some way. 

“So, Harry…” Harry’s head whipped up from his plate, his eyes full of concern. Louis stuttered slightly in his surprise. “I- uh… you mentioned last night that you thought there’d be work for me still, even with my bum hand?”

Harry visibly relaxed at Louis’ gentle tone. “Y- yeah. I talked t’ Big Jim last night and he said I should show ya some of the things y' can help me with.” Then, with a slight frown, he added, “If ya don’t mind, that is?”

Even Willa looked confused at Harry’s tacked on question. Why would Louis refuse what Big Jim wanted him to do? Slowly a few things were starting to fall into place in Louis’ mind as he remembered Harry’s panicked apology for the flirty comment when he’d squeezed Louis’ arm and what he had said last night about the other farmhands “acting funny” around him. Louis was starting to think that Harry’s lack of friends was less about him not serving time in the military, or that people were scared of his epilepsy, but more that some people suspected that Harry liked boys. Of course, no one would say anything to Big Jim, but most men in these parts would stay clear of having rumors spread about them because they hung around someone they thought might be gay.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Louis said with a smile as he stabbed a piece of sausage. “I’m just glad there’s still work for me to do while I’m a bit of a cripple.” Louis paused and held Harry’s gaze. “Besides, I like your company.”

Aware that the girls were watching the exchange, Louis smoothly turned to ask them what their chores for the day included. His effort to shift the focus away didn’t go unnoticed by Harry. As Willa, Adelaide, and Annie chattered on about everything they did to help out, Harry caught Louis’ eye and smiled, softly. Louis, once again, felt the butterflies take up residence in his belly. 

\----

“So, the goats are done birthin’ for the year and there’s a set of twins whose mama rejected them. I’ve been bottle feedin’ ‘em, so they’re kinda like my babies.” Harry was walking Louis over to the goat pen as he talked, his hands gesticulating excitedly as he described the different personalities of the baby goats he was taking care of. “The male is Max… although I call him by his full name––Maxim––when he’s naughty. Which is often.” Harry turned to Louis with a twinkle in his eye. “I named him after a character in my favorite book. His sister’s named Daphne––that’s the author’s name.”

Louis grinned at Harry’s excitement. “I can’t wait to meet them. And you’ll have to share the book with me, as well.”

Opening up the gate to the goat pen, Harry looked over his shoulder, wide-eyed. “Really? Oh… I’d love that. No one ever wants to hear ‘bout the books I read.”

Squatting down to pick up a tiny, white goat kid that had run up to him, bleating, Harry looked up at Louis with a grin. “In the meantime, would ya like to meet Daphne?”

Daphne was cradled in Harry’s arms, gently butting his chin with her head as Louis reached out to rub her warm, furry belly. “She’s so little… I- I wasn’t expecting that.” Louis looked at Harry with a dazed smile. 

“Well, she’s only a couple weeks old. But she’ll get pretty big. Come on, sit down here and ya can feed her. Ya won’t need t’ use yer injured hand that way.”

Placing the kid by their feet, Harry got Louis situated on a pile of straw with a baby bottle and showed him how to hold it so she’d drink. Then he scooped up an equally small, brown goat and sat down next to him. “This is her brother, Max. Usually I have t’ feed ‘em at the same time, so this is a real treat for me.”

The two of them sat quietly, side by side, feeding the two kids until Max fell asleep in Harry’s arms and Daphne decided to curl up to nap in the shade of a nearby wagon. Putting the bottle down, Louis reached into his back pocket to pull out the notebook he always carried, and began to scribble in it. 

Watching him curiously, Harry waited until Louis paused his pen. “Whatcha doin’?”

Pushing his hat back to wipe the sweat from his forehead, Louis shyly answered, “Oh, I- I’m writin’ some notes. I came down here because I was supposed to write an article for a magazine about ‘farm life in the rural south’.” Louis made finger quotes as he said it. “But then the magazine didn’t want it anymore, but I got to really like it down here, so I thought I’d stay.” As he put the notebook away, he quietly said, “Now I’m tryin’ t’ turn what I’ve got into a novel.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised to his hairline as his jaw dropped. “Yer kiddin’ me! I didn’t know ya could write. That’s so excitin’. Was that yer job when you were up north?”

Harry had stood up as he was talking and gestured for Louis to follow him. Feeding the abandoned kids was just the first chore on the list for the day, and there was still plenty to do.

“Yeah. Mostly I wrote articles for different magazines. Most of my friends back in New York are writers, too. It’s a pretty crazy crowd… but it’s cool.” As Louis spoke, he walked with a pail of feed hanging from the crook of his arm so he could toss handfuls of it to the goats. “Most of the time, we just stay up all night, talking politics and philosophy and reading bits of our writing to each other.” With a thoughtful look, he scratched his scruffy chin. “Nothin’ like what I’m doing these days.”

Harry was working near him, using a pitchfork to pile new hay in where the goats slept, and then shoveling manure out of the pen, but he was listening intently as Louis told him about his friends and life in New York. As they finished up with the goats for the morning, and headed in for lunch, Harry was quieter than usual. 

Trying to catch his eye, Louis’ cocked his head to look at Harry. “Hey…? Did I say somethin’ wrong? I feel like I’ve been talkin’ a blue streak…”

“No, ‘course not. I- I was just thinkin’ about all the stuff y’ were sayin’.” He stopped walking and turned to look at Louis. “Yer life in New York just sounds so… much more interestin’ than anything we got goin’ on down here. I guess, I don’t really get why you’d stay in Georgia.”

Smiling, Louis shrugged. “Well... it’s nice to have a change sometimes. And you’ve got things here we don’t have in New York… like baby goats, and Mama Jean’s cornbread, and… watermelons that try to kill you.” Louis grinned and poked Harry in the ribs, making him screech with laughter. “Besides, I don’t stay anywhere for long anyway. Not even New York.”

Harry blinked rapidly a few times before mumbling an answer. “Yeah… ‘course. Ya won’t be settlin’ down here. I forgot fer a minute.”

Shrugging, Harry turned to head towards the farmhouse as Louis followed, wondering what exactly had soured his mood. 

\----

Big Jim had found plenty for Louis to do with just one working hand, and it meant he got to spend the bulk of his days with Harry. Whether Louis was painting a fence or placing orders for feed and fertilizer, Harry almost always had work to do nearby as well. Louis’ working days were so enjoyable, he’d almost begun to wish his wrist would never heal. 

When they had time, Harry pushed Louis to talk to him like he did with his friends in New York––to discuss music, and political systems, and the philosophical theories in the books he’d read. Louis had never been around someone as open to learning and as hungry for knowledge as Harry was. And even though Harry might not have had as much formal education as Louis, he kept Louis on his toes. 

They often took their lunch break sitting in the shade of one of the large trees that gave White Oak Farms its name. Food sometimes forgotten, the two of them would sit and read, sharing passages that had moved them or had made them think. Harry shyly offered books of poetry he brought down from his room, and Louis suggested some of the books he’d lugged around with him as he traveled. It was one of the most intimate experiences he’d ever had… despite the fact that it was completely platonic. 

“Have you read this one?” Louis asked one day, holding up a small paperback, as he sipped the sweet tea Adelaide had made for their lunch. “He’s written a couple of books I really like. There’s a bit in this one that reminded me of you.”

He smiled as Harry rolled on his side, propping his head on his hand, as if he wanted Louis to know he was giving him his full attention. The piercing focus of his pale green eyes made the moment feel fathomless; Louis couldn’t help but stare back for a moment before beginning to read, his voice pitched low so as not to disturb the bubble they’d found themselves in.

_‘My dear,_

_In the midst of strife, I found there was, within me, an invincible love._

_In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile._

_In the midst of chaos, I found there was within me, an invincible calm._

_In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me, there lay, an invincible summer. And, that makes me happy._

_For it says, that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger…’_

Louis looked up from his book to find Harry brushing tears from his eyes. As he sniffled and cleared his throat, he sat up and looked back at Louis. “I’m sorry. That’s so embarrassin’. I don’t know why I got so emotional.”

Louis ran his hands through his hair as he took a minute to sort out his thoughts. “Feeling deeply is nothing to be embarrassed by, Harry. I think writing that touches your soul and makes you experience emotions is the best kind of writing.” Handing Harry his bandana to wipe his tears, Louis looked at the book in his lap. “I can only guess at why those words made you cry... but I hope part of it was because you realize how strong you are.”

Harry stared at him, the green of his eyes made more vibrant because of his tears. “Why- why’d that make ya think of me?”

“Well… I guess because you’ve been through so much, but you haven’t let it break you or turn you into a cruel or bitter person.” As Louis spoke, he found his voice wavering with emotion. “That line when he says that even in the ‘depths of winter’ he learned that within himself lay ‘an invincible summer’...” He paused and caught Harry’s eye before he spoke again. “It’s like saying even in the darkest and worst times in our lives, it’s possible to find an unstoppable joy, a fiery strength no one could extinguish, within yourself. Something no one, no outside force, could take away.”

Harry was quiet as he wiped his tear-streaked cheeks with the bandana, then, with a shuddering breath he looked back at Louis. “I’ve never thought of myself that way.” His voice sounded choked off as he looked down at his hands. “But ya only just met me and... and somehow ya see so much more.”

“I dunno, maybe I see a little bit of myself in those words, too. So, I recognize it in you.” 

Turning his face towards Louis, Harry smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You OK?”

“Yeah…” Taking in a deep breath, Harry looked around. “I guess we should get back to work. Max and Daphne will need another feedin’, I reckon.”

\----

The evening was a bit more subdued, but not in a way that was awkward. Instead, it was as if something had softened and mellowed. Maybe walls had crumbled just a bit more. Louis had been having a terrible time keeping his thoughts ‘friendly’ ever since the undressing incident––constantly having to pull himself back from mooning over how the muscles of Harry’s broad back shifted as he lifted sacks of feed, or the way the sunlight turned his eyes the delicate green of spring grass. 

Finally, _finally_ the day was done, and dinner finished, and Louis was able to excuse himself back to his room. Desperate for some privacy, he was almost out the front door when he heard Harry calling after him.

“Hey… Louis! Do you want to do the last feedin’ with me tonight? Or should I just take care of it myself?”

“No, I- I’ll help you with it. Just come and get me when it’s time.” Louis let the screen door slam as he nearly sprinted across the lawn.

The cool darkness of the barn was a relief for the way his body burned. Every stitch of clothing he wore felt like it was constricting his breathing––he practically tore everything off as he ran up the stairs to his bed. Finally naked, he threw himself on the mattress, panting. He hadn’t felt like this in years––completely overcome by the need to touch himself, to picture himself kissing, licking, fucking into someone… but it wasn’t just _‘someone’_ this time. This time the only person in his head was Harry. 

_HarryHarryHarry_ ran on a loop in his head. Images of Harry’s body flashed through Louis’ mind––his wide mouth as he laughed, the flex of the muscles in his thick thighs as he crouched down, the way his fingers wrapped around the hourglass bottle of Coke as he drank from it… head tilted back, Adam's apple bobbing. Louis wanted him so much he thought he was going to tear his hair out. 

Frustrated, he realized that laying in bed jerking himself off wasn’t enough. It was too hot, too dry, too… something. He sat up and grabbed his towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he headed downstairs and out the back door of the barn to the shower. 

It was, essentially, a wooden box of hastily nailed together slats. The back of the barn faced empty fields, so the fact that the gaps between the slats left Louis’ body barely covered, hadn’t bothered him at all in the weeks that he’d been using it. And right now he was in too much of a rush to care at all.

Unwrapping the bandage from his wrist and hanging his towel over the door, Louis turned on the water and stepped under the spray, groaning as the cool water hit his overheated skin. As he let the water wash away the dirt and grime of the day, he reached for the bar of soap he’d left on the shelf and began to lather himself up. He was favoring his injured hand, but he could tell it was on the mend. 

This was so much better than lying in his sweaty bed. Running his soapy hands over his chest and under his armpits, he closed his eyes and just let himself enjoy the feeling. The sound of a door slamming made him jump, but when he looked through the slats there was nothing there. 

Shrugging, he soaped his hands up again and ran them over the flat planes of his belly and then around his hips to his ass, ignoring his rapidly filling cock. Again, he could have sworn he heard a noise—like a choking sound. 

He called out into the emptiness, “Is there someone there?” No one answered him, but he could swear he’d seen some movement in the doorway. Closing his eyes again, he let his imagination run free. What if someone _was_ watching him? What if _Harry_ was watching? What would that be like?

Louis bit back a moan at the thought. He gripped his cock with one of his soapy hands, sliding it along the shaft, slowly, indulging himself. God, it had been a long time. Slyly, he slid his half closed eyes to look at the doorway again and _this_ time he was certain there was someone standing just inside the doorway. As Louis watched, the person moved forward slightly and their face left the shadows just for a second.

Harry. Louis’ heart started to pound with the realization that it really _was_ Harry, that Harry must have come looking for him and was now watching him shower. 

_“Fuck.”_ Louis cursed under his breath and bit his lip.

Tilting his head back under the water, he raised his arms under the guise of washing his hair, but at the same time, he knew it lengthened his torso and showed off the muscles in his arms. Turning slightly, so his back faced where he thought Harry was, he let the water and soap suds stream down his back and over the curve of his ass. Smiling to himself, he slowly ran his hands over himself and along the cleft between his cheeks, imagining Harry watching.

He wondered if Harry was hard, if he was touching himself right there in the barn, or if he’d wait until he got back to his room. Louis let out a moan at the thought. He nearly choked at what sounded like an answering moan from inside the barn. Slowly Louis turned to face where Harry was watching him from, stopping when he thought he’d given him a good view, and reached a soapy hand down to slide along his dick.

Hissing at how good it felt, he twisted his hand at the head, then slid it back down along his shaft as he gently rolled his balls in his other hand. Pumping steadily, he closed his eyes and pictured Harry standing just inside the barn door, hiding in the shadows, his big hand palming himself through his jeans.

Fuck, this was really working for him. Louis hadn’t realized how hot the idea of someone watching him jerk off would be. His thoughts went to Harry standing just a few feet away as Louis pictured him slowly unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out of his boxers. Running a hand along his chest to twist his nipple, Louis’ mouth dropped open with a groan. He imagined Harry with his fist in his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep himself quiet while he worked his cock.

And oh god, it was probably a magnificent cock. Louis had _seen_ the way Harry’s jeans bulged in all the right places. Under the shower he began to pump himself faster and faster as he imagined getting his mouth on Harry—imagining the weight and the taste, the slide along his tongue… oh god, he was going to come. 

Louis’ breath was coming in short pants, his hand flying over his dick, he just needed a tiny bit more. Raising his head to look back at the darkened doorway, he gasped as Harry’s eyes stared directly into his. He must have moved closer to get a better look, because now Louis could see him clearly. His face was flushed, his eyes wide, but best of all, his hand was shoved into the front of his jeans as if he’d been touching himself while he watched.

Louis threw his head back and grunted as his eyes screwed shut and his cock began to pulse out over and over again against the wall of the shower. He stood there for a moment, panting and shivering as he came down from his orgasm. Peeking back at the doorway, he was disappointed to see that Harry had disappeared, but he wasn’t really surprised. 

Drying himself off, he made his way back to his room in a daze. As he pulled on a clean t-shirt and pajama bottoms, he briefly thought of writing about the day, but he crawled under the quilt instead, and was fast asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote at the beginning of the chapter is from **The Heart is a Lonely Hunter** by Carson McCullers  
> The book Louis reads from to Harry is **The Stranger** by Albert Camus


	2. July

**July**

_“If those whom we begin to love could know us before meeting them… they could perceive what they have made of us.” - Albert Camus_

Harry disappeared for three days after the shower incident, as Louis had come to call it. According to Mama Jean, he was sick. He was too sick to come to the table and eat, too sick to work… but Louis knew it wasn’t that. Harry was either too embarrassed or too scared (or both) to face Louis after what happened. But he had to leave his room at some point. On the fourth day, a pale and exhausted Harry joined everyone for breakfast. 

“About time ya got back to work,” Willa snarked as he sat down. 

Harry just rolled his eyes as he poured himself some coffee. 

Walking in with a plate of food for him, Mama Jean kissed Harry on the forehead. “Ya feelin’ better, sweetheart?”

Harry answered quietly, looking down at the plate she set in front of him. “Yes, Mama. Thank you.”

Louis sat across from him, silently, waiting to see if Harry acknowledged him in any way beyond his mumbled “Mornin’ everybody”. He didn’t. In fact, his eyes barely left his plate. And Louis wasn’t sure if what he felt towards Harry was anger or sympathy. Maybe it was a bit of both. 

“Louis? Are ya gonna come with us t’ the fireworks tonight?” Annie tugged on his shirt sleeve as she asked. “It’s so much fun. The whole county goes, right Harry?”

Harry flinched at his name being called, but looked up at his sister and then at Louis. “Uh… yeah. July 4th’s a big deal ‘round here. They do a huge fireworks show down in Montgomery county.”

“It’s so much fun, Louis.” Annie’s normally sullen face lit up as she described the atmosphere. “Folks come from all over and there’s rides and music and… oh there’s the best ice cream! Remember that ice cream we got last year, Addie?”

Adelaide and Annie were soon wrapped up in their memories of last year, and Louis took a chance to look back at Harry. When Harry finally looked up at him, Louis smiled softly, desperate to communicate that Harry had nothing to worry about. The wild flush that colored Harry’s face was evidence that he wasn’t fully in control of his emotions, but he hesitantly smiled back.

“I s’pose we ought to go check on the goats and get started with the day?” Louis finished off his coffee and, rising from the table, he added with a teasing tone, “I tried my best without you the last couple of days, but I think Max and Daphne miss you something fierce.”

Harry ducked his head, rubbing the tip of his nose. “Sorry ‘bout that. Was under the weather.” He walked into the kitchen to grab the baby bottles, and headed out the back door, Louis following close behind.

They were a few yards from the goat pen when they heard Annie running after them. “Louiiiiis! Ya forgot yer book again!” 

Panting when she reached them, Louis wiped his forehead as she handed him his journal. “Shoot. Thank you, Annie! I’m always putting that down and forgetting it!”

She beamed up at him as he ruffled her hair with a smile. “Yer welcome, Louis. Glad I found it fer ya!”

As she ran off, Harry watched her, thoughtfully. “I think she’s got a bit of a crush on ya, Lou.”

Louis chuckled as he looked over at Harry as he unlocked the goat pen. “I’m sure she’ll have moved on by next week.”

“Dunno. Sometimes crushes take root.” Looking at his boots, Harry shrugged and kept walking. 

Louis knew they should talk, but he was so unsure of the best way to do it. Frowning at himself as he mulled it over, he wondered how he was so eloquent with words on the page, but so clumsy with them in person. Lost in his thoughts, he nearly walked into Harry who’d stopped to pick up Max.

“Thanks fer takin’ care of ‘em while I was sick. I was really worried they might be lonely.” Harry’s voice was quiet, and mumbled into the top of Max’s head, but at least Harry was talking to him.

“You’re welcome. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to them.” 

Harry looked up with a small smile. “I know. Annie told me y’ were out here fer every feedin’.”

Scratching at the back of his neck, Louis shrugged. “Well, I guess I kinda felt responsible. I mean, you said they were like your babies. I know they’re important to you.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond, then shut it as a furious blush colored his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I’m so sorry about the shower.” He was looking everywhere but at Louis as he spoke. “I- I came to get ya fer the last feeding and couldn’t find ya. I thought maybe ya’d gone out back… but, I- I shouldn’t have stayed once I saw y’ were bathin’.” 

Pausing for a moment, then taking a step closer to where Harry stood, Louis’ voice came out like a whisper. “Why _did_ you stay, Harry?”

Harry’s shoulders were curled in, as if to make himself appear smaller, like he wanted to disappear. “I- I don’t know…”

Louis cocked his head and reached a hand out to run his fingers over Max’s tiny body as he snuggled in Harry’s arms. “No? Do you think... maybe you stayed... because you _liked_ seein’ me in the shower?”

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked around fearfully.

“It’s OK if you did.” Keeping his voice low, Louis’ heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. “I… it’s OK if you like looking at me sometimes.”

Harry’s head whipped back to face Louis, his mouth dropping open. Louis bit his lip as he held his breath. 

“I don’t think I’m supposed t' like it, though.” Harry’s brows were furrowed deeply as he held Max tight to his chest. “I’ve heard the men ‘round the farm talk about how it’s wrong fer boys to like each other that way.”

Bending down to settle into the hay to feed the kids, Louis looked up and gently shook his head, no. “I don’t think it’s wrong, Harry. I- I liked that you wanted to see me like that.”

“I- you- ya _liked_ it? Ya liked that I was watchin’ ya?”

Louis nodded, praying that he was reading Harry correctly. “I did. I- I was imagining what you might be thinking,” His voice shook as he continued his confession. “What you might be doin’...” He tried to contain his smile as Harry released a shaky breath and his eyes fluttered shut.

As Harry dropped down to sit next to him, a painful sob gurgled up from the back of Harry’s throat as he opened his eyes. “Oh _god…_ I was so scared ya’d hate me.”

Shaking his head, emphatically, Louis took off his hat and held it to his chest. “No. Not ever. I- I was hoping you felt the same way I did.” 

Running a hand through his hair, Harry replied earnestly. “I do… I mean, I don’t know _exactly_ what yer feelin’, but…” He took a deep breath and then dropped his voice. “Ya make me feel things I ain’t never felt before, and I- I kinda can’t think straight ‘round ya at all.”

“Christ...” Louis choked out a little laugh. “I’ve been the same since I got here.”

“I’d been prayin’ for there t’ be a way t’ spend more time with ya…” Harry bit his lip and then started giggling. “And then ya got hurt and I felt so guilty.” 

Louis snorted at Harry’s confession. “Being nearly killed by watermelons isn’t the way I hoped it would happen… but I’m glad we’ve gotten to spend more time together.”

They sat there quietly, the sound of Max and Daphne feeding filling in the lull in their conversation.

Biting his lip, it was Harry who ultimately broke the silence. “We can’t tell no one, can we?” 

Looking over at him, Louis knew that Harry could read his answer on his face before he even opened his mouth. 

\----

As far as Louis was concerned, the rest of the day was spent with way too many people around. There was never a chance to talk about anything more than work or the weather, no opportunity for any sort of lingering touches or admiring glances. It was torture. 

“We’re quittin’ early today, boys.” Big Jim had come out to where Harry and Louis were working behind the farmhouse. “Everyone’s plannin’ t’ go down to Montgomery. The girls said yer gonna join us, Lou?”

Setting down the paintbrush he’d been using, Louis tilted his hat back and wiped his sweaty forehead. “Yeah, they told me about it this morning. Sounds like fun. I’d love to go.”

“Well, good! They do some fine celebratin’ of our military men, too. So if ya let ‘em know yer regiment and all, they’ll include ya.”

Louis felt his face flush as Big Jim spoke and caught Harry watching him with a confused frown. He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to lie to them, but there didn’t seem a way around it now.

“Ah, that’s great that they do that. The men deserve all the celebrating we can give ‘em.” Clearing his throat, Louis pushed through the rest. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get to serve on account of a problem I’ve got with my back. They wouldn’t let me enlist.”

“Oh, I’m sorry son.” Big Jim clapped him on the shoulder with a sympathetic look, seeming to have bought the story. “I’m sure that must a’ been hard on ya. Yer back seems strong enough now, though.” 

‘Oh, yeah, it doesn't stop me from doing my work for y’all. I guess the army is a bit more particular.” 

Hoping his joking tone and wide smile would put an end to the subject, Louis let out a relieved breath as Big Jim laughed heartily and moved on. “Harry, why don’t you and Louis drive down with Hank and Clem in the pickup? Your mama and I will take the girls in the car.”

“OK Daddy. We’ll finish here and get cleaned up.”

As Big Jim walked back to the house, Harry turned to Louis with his lower lip pulled between his teeth. “How come ya didn’t say nothin’ when I told ya about not bein’ able t’ enlist?”

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t tell you the other night.” Louis dragged his foot along the loose gravel where they stood, avoiding Harry’s eyes. “I- I don’t actually have a back problem.”

“What? But ya just told Big Jim…”

Louis looked around them, then stepped closer to Harry so he could lower his voice. Even with the earlier conversation they’d had, he couldn’t help the lick of fear that ran through him as he geared up to tell Harry the truth. 

“I know I told him that. And I hate that I had to lie to him. And that I kept it from you at first.” Louis bit his lip and searched Harry’s eyes as he tried to calm his nerves. “I went to enlist, but they turned me away because they found out I’m gay. They don’t let people like me fight for our country.”

His last words hung in the air like a physical manifestation of anger and pain that swirled around between them. 

_“I’m gay.”_

_“People like me”_

“I’m so sorry, Louis. I… I didn’t realize.”

Louis tried to keep the tears from welling up. He hadn’t talked about it in so long, he’d almost forgotten how much it hurt to be denied that way; how much it had made him a target until he’d found an accepting community among his hipster crowd in New York. Being gay barely made them bat an eyelid, and their thoughts about the war were not like the average American’s––for them, social conformity and the atomic bomb were reason to rebel, to look inward and find an understanding of why we were here on this planet. They had bigger things on their minds than shunning someone for not ‘serving their country’. 

With a sigh, Louis ran a hand over his face. “It’s OK. There’s no way you’d have known. It’s just another secret to keep.”

Harry scratched at his jaw, nodding thoughtfully. “I’m glad you didn’t tell Big Jim the truth though.”

Louis looked at Harry with a small frown, feeling a knot grow in his stomach. “Why’s that?”

Harry’s eyes darted around as his voice lowered. “He don’t think too kindly about sissies. Thinks they did the right thing lockin’ ‘em up in the war.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, Harry. I- I can’t imagine growing up around that.”

Smiling sadly, Harry parroted back Louis’ earlier answer with a resigned shrug. “It’s just another secret to keep.” Straightening his back, and appearing to throw off the seriousness of their conversation, Harry changed the subject. “Anyway, d’ya still wanna go tonight?”

“Definitely. I wouldn’t miss getting to spend some time with you away from the farm.”

Smiling broadly, Harry closed up the paint can Louis had been using so he could put it away with his own tools. “Good. I’m really lookin’ forward t’ it.”

“Me, too. I’m gonna go wash up.” Louis took a step closer and whispered in Harry’s ear, “No peeking this time.”

Grinning as Harry’s breath hitched, Louis headed towards the barn feeling the discomfort of lying start to melt away. 

\----

As Louis walked from the barn to meet Harry, he thanked every saint in existence that Clem and Hank weren’t there yet; he needed privacy to fully take in the way Harry Styles looked leaning against that pickup truck.

Years later, Louis would still remember every detail as he came around the back of the house and saw Harry waiting for him like it was their first date. He’d be able to describe the casual way Harry slouched against the bright blue pickup, his thumbs hooked into the belt loops of a new pair of dark blue jeans. He’d be able to close his eyes and detail Harry’s freshly shaved face and the way his still damp hair curled softly around his ears as he watched Louis walking towards him. How had Louis stumbled into this piece of Heaven in the middle of nowhere, Georgia? He had no idea, but he was eternally grateful. 

Taking a peek around and over his shoulder when Louis stood in front of him, Harry smiled and shyly ducked his head before speaking. “Ya look so good... wish I could kiss ya right here.”

Louis’ grin nearly split his face as he rocked back on his heels. “I feel the same. It’s unfair how good looking you are. Honestly… leave some for the rest of us.” 

Harry grinned at Louis' joke and rolled his eyes, fondly. “The boys’ll be here any minute. I just heard Hank yellin’ at Clem to hurry up.”

Sure enough, the two of them showed up just a minute later and clambered into the flatbed of the truck, laughing and chattering about how much fun the fair would be. Louis joined Harry in the cab, and as much as he wanted to touch, he kept his body pushed against the passenger door, just in case Hank or Clem decided to peek in the rear window. The ride down to Montgomery county was a quick one and once there, with a promise to check in with Harry when the sun went down, the two farmhands took off to try their luck at meeting some girls. 

Turning to Louis, Harry grinned. “Alone at last.”

“Alone, with about three thousand other people, but yes.” 

Leaning in, Harry cupped a hand around Louis’ ear. “I don’t know… all I see is you.”

Huffing out a laugh, Louis gently pushed Harry away. “Come on, you charmer. Show me around this place. I hear it’s got some pretty amazing ice cream.”

Harry excitedly gave Louis the full tour––pointing out his favorite rides… _‘the ones that don’t make me wanna chuck up’_

Which games are rigged… _‘stay away from the milk bottle toss, I lost_ three _dollars there last year!’_

And what food stands were a must… _‘Annie’s right ‘bout the ice cream, but ya’ve gotta try the corn dogs first. Ya eat ‘em off a stick!’_

The two of them had lost themselves in the crowd, as if the throngs of people somehow made them invisible. By the time the sun was going down, Louis’ stomach ached, both from too much food and too much laughter. Everything around him felt warm and hazy––like a kaleidoscope of Harry’s bright laughter and Harry’s strong hands and the warmth of Harry’s body as they were knocked into each other on the Tilt-A-Whirl. And all of that happiness was mixed with cotton candy and bright lights and the giddy excitement of liking someone new. For that short time, it felt like the only two people who existed were Harry and Louis... and it was magical. 

Still floating in that dreaminess, they walked beside each other as they made their way to the open field to catch the firework display. Hank and Clem had decided to spend the evening with a group of friends they’d found, but Harry’s family had already staked out a spot to sit. Looking around at the couples cuddled up in the semi darkness, an intense wave of sadness hit Louis. He ached to touch Harry the way others around them touched so openly––to lean back against the firmness of Harry’s chest, as his arms wrapped around Louis’ body, to hold hands, to steal a gentle kiss. 

Spreading out the blanket he’d grabbed from the truck, Harry set up next to his family, motioning for Louis to sit as well. As Louis stood there, Harry looked up with a questioning frown, mouthing the words ‘ _you ok?_ ’ Nodding, Louis tried to smile so as not to worry him, and sat down––not too close so as to draw suspicion––while Harry watched him. Reaching across him for a soda, Harry shifted closer, hesitating as Louis’ body stiffened. 

“What’s goin’ on?”

Shaking his head, Louis shrugged his shoulders. “Nothin, sorry. Just surprised me, that’s all.”

Harry opened two bottles, handing one to Louis, and watched as he tipped his head back and took a long drink. Louis turned to find Harry’s eyes were hooded, his jaw hanging open. Wiping his mouth, Louis winked and nudged Harry’s shoulder. “You’re gonna catch flies.”

Snapping his mouth shut, Harry ducked his head and blushed. “Sorry. It’s just... it ain’t easy.”

Louis knew what he meant, he felt it in every part of his body. It _wasn’t_ easy to feel this much and keep it hidden. Sighing, Louis looked down at how Harry’s hand was resting on the blanket next to his hip, somehow still so pale and fragile-looking despite all the farm work he did. His heart began to beat quicker as he took a look around… no one was paying them any mind. Shifting slightly, so he was just a bit closer, he moved his hand towards Harry’s painfully slowly. Looking out into the darkness, Louis casually took a sip of soda and moved his hand one last time until his pinky finally brushed against Harry’s. 

Electricity zipped up his body at the feeling of their skin brushing, but the jolt seemed to double the moment Harry locked their pinkies, his gaze casual as he pretended to look off into the distance. They sat like that as the fireworks began, Louis’ hand shifting to cover Harry’s just a tiny bit more as everyone’s eyes were fixed on the sky. Brilliant explosions of white and orange-gold flashed and reflected in Harry’s eyes; his boyish face lit up with so much joy, Louis thought his heart would burst as he watched him. 

\----

Having said their goodnights to Harry’s family, the two of them walked slowly, side by side, back to the pickup. Louis was jittery knowing Hank and Clem were finding their own way back home which left him and Harry alone for the first time since they’d confessed their attraction to each other. Sneaking a glance at him, Louis got the impression Harry had similar thoughts given the light blush coloring his cheeks and the fact that he was practically chewing his lower lip off. 

The silence that followed the truck doors slamming closed felt heavy and charged. With a sigh, Harry started the engine and they began the slow crawl out of the fairgrounds.

“Are you OK?” Louis’ voice was dry and stuck in his throat.

“Yeah…” Harry looked at his lap, then peeked up at Louis. “I- I’m just a little nervous.”

Louis turned his face towards Harry as he drove. “What about? D’ya want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know… I feel kinda embarrassed.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I promise I’m not gonna laugh at you.”

Harry took a deep breath, looking over at Louis and then back at the road. “I guess it’s just… Mama Jean and Big Jim have always been super protective of me, what with my parents dyin’ and the epilepsy and all.”

Pausing for a beat, Harry scratched a finger over his eyebrow before continuing. “So they never really let me do much like goin’ to parties or hangin’ out with the the other guys on the farm or… whatever.”

Louis sat, puzzled as to where Harry was going with this, but just nodded for him to continue. 

“I guess what I’m sayin’ is that... I’m a bit sheltered. ‘Specially for a boy.” 

“Bein’ sheltered is nice, Harry. Means someone cares about you.” Louis shifted so his whole body was facing Harry. “You know what the pastors always say… the opposite of love ain’t hate, it’s indifference.”

Harry sighed as he spoke, quietly. “Yeah… I guess. They’re good people. It’s just...” He stopped speaking and looked at Louis again. “For a while now I guess I just been wonderin’ what I’m missin’ out on. Ya know?”

“Like… what kinda stuff?”

“It sounds silly, but… like stuff I read about or that I overhear the farm hands talkin’ ‘bout. Just gettin’ drunk, or leavin’ Georgia and seein’ what’s out there.” He waved his hand, gesturing at what lay beyond the windshield as if it symbolized ‘out there’. Then, swallowing nervously, his voice dropped to a whisper. “And, like, kissin’... and stuff.” 

Louis’ heart began to pound as he watched Harry’s hands grip the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “You haven’t ever kissed anyone, Harry?”

In the silence that followed, Louis watched as Harry’s tongue slipped out to wet his lips as he answered softly, “No. Guess I ain’t never had no one I wanted t’ kiss.” Pausing, he darted a shy glance towards Louis. “Not til now, that is.”

Louis ducked his head as he felt his cheeks burning. Looking up as Harry continued to watch the road ahead, his voice was raspy. “Do you mean you think about kissing me?”

Harry nodded, once, sneaking a quick look over at Louis. “I do. I think ‘bout it a lot… what kissin’ is like, what it’d be like with you...” 

The truck rumbled back towards Wilcox county and White Oaks Farm, the night sky so clear and so scattered with stars that Harry barely needed his headlights to make his way. His confession hung in the air between them, and while Louis understood why he’d been embarrassed to talk about it, Harry’s lack of experience didn’t make Louis want him any less.

“I’ve kissed a few people before, but that doesn't mean anything, really. Kissing _you_ is still a mystery to me, so all I can do is imagine what it’s like.”

He smiled as Harry looked at him with wide eyes and quietly asked, “Do ya? Imagine what it’d be like t’ kiss me?”

“I do. Sometimes I lay in my bed at night and imagine just leanin’ in... real slow, and kissin’ the soft skin of your cheek.” Settling back against the seat, Louis’ eyes were half closed as his voice mellowed into something dreamy and soft.

“And then, I imagine turning my head just a bit, pressing my lips against yours.” Louis paused and let out a shaky breath. “And in my mind your lips would feel like the velvet softness of a rose petal, you know? Like, so _gentle_ as you kiss me back.”

“And maybe you’d sigh into my mouth… and part your lips just the tiniest bit.” Harry’s mouth did just that as his eyes flicked towards Louis. “And then, I imagine slipping my tongue in and just slowly let it brush against yours… kinda exploring what you taste like.”

Harry sucked his lower lip into his mouth, digging his teeth into the plump flesh of it, as he continued to stare straight ahead at the empty road in front of them. Feeling out of breath and dizzy, Louis sat up straighter in his seat and cleared his throat, watching as the streetlights flashed over Harry in bursts as he drove them home. 

“Do you want me to be your first kiss then?” Louis’ heart pounded as he asked.

Harry looked over and dropped his eyes to Louis’ mouth. “Yeah… I want that. I want… anythin’ you’ll give me.” Snapping his eyes back to the road, he kept talking. “I ain’t been able t’ stop thinkin’ about what it would feel like t’ hold you. T’ touch you.”

“I think about it all the time, too.” 

Finally Harry made the turn on to the road leading to the farm. Pulling up to the farmhouse, only the porch light was on, meaning Harry’s family still hadn’t made it back. 

“Come… be a gentleman and walk me to my door, Styles.”

Harry grinned, dimples digging deep into his cheeks as he ran around to Louis’ side of the truck to open the door for him. Other than the sweet summertime sounds of crickets, the farm was quiet as they walked side by side to the barn. Louis’ hands felt sweaty as he pulled the door open and slipped into the darkness.

Harry stepped in right behind him, leaving the door open just a bit so the moonlight spilled in, painting them silvery-white where they stood, facing each other. Louis reached out and fisted the front of Harry’s shirt, pulling him forward. Stumbling towards where Louis stood, Harry’s hands flew out to steady himself, landing on either side of Louis’ head, as his body pressed Louis’ back against the barn wall.

They stood there for a quiet moment, breathing heavily, as Harry caged Louis in with his slightly taller frame and broader shoulders. But Louis was anything but submissive in that moment––his stance was wide, allowing Harry to stand between his legs as Louis dropped his hands to Harry’s slim hips and lined their bodies up without an inch of space between them.

Tilting his chin up slightly so he could look Harry in the eyes, Louis cupped Harry’s jaw and brought their lips together. It was soft and gentle at first, just letting Harry get a feel for what it’s like to be kissed. With a light nip, Louis sucked Harry’s full bottom lip into his mouth, making Harry moan, raggedly. Slipping a hand into the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck and holding him steady, Louis parted his lips, encouraging Harry to do the same. 

As their tongues met, Harry’s full-body shiver was like nothing Louis had ever experienced––he tasted like cotton candy and innocence and Louis wanted to live in that moment forever. He felt the full weight of Harry’s body press against him, his tongue sliding along Louis’ lips and dipping into his mouth, sighing and groaning as if he’d never felt anything quite as good. Louis knew _he_ hadn’t, that was for sure. None of the rushed encounters or fumbling fucks he’d had in his past was as all-consuming as kissing this boy in a moonlit barn with only the background music of the chirping insects and the occasional hoot of an owl as witness. 

\----

Louis’s wrist had healed enough that he’d been cleared to head back out into the field. Not loading watermelon this time, much to his relief, but picking peaches instead. He didn’t mind the strenuous work, but he did miss spending so much time alone with Harry. And even though they saw each other at dinner, it was nowhere near enough. He was counting down the hours until their next day off. 

Sunday morning began much the same as usual–– the rooster waking Louis with his crowing just before dawn. But for a change, Louis rolled over and went back to sleep until he heard the sound of the barn door sliding open and Harry’s deep voice calling him. 

“Mornin’ Lou. You awake yet?”

Stretching, Louis croaked out a reply. “Yeah, just getting dressed. Wanna come up?”

There was a long pause before Harry’s quiet answer. “Um… you sure?”

“I’m not naked, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Louis huffed out a laugh as he bent to grab a shirt out of the chest of drawers, then turned to see Harry at the top of the stairs. 

“I wasn’t worried…” Harry said with a small frown. “I just didn’t want t’ be rude.”

Smiling, Louis walked over to where Harry stood and kissed him, lingering just long enough that Harry’s body started to melt. 

“You can be rude around me if you want.” Louis wiggled his eyebrows, suggestively, and sat on the bed to pull on socks. 

Flushed and a little flustered, Harry cleared his throat a couple of times before he spoke. “Um… so if ya don’t have plans, there’s somewhere I wanted to take ya, since we have a day off.” 

Smiling widely, Louis took in the way Harry stood in front of him, hands clasped behind his back, biting his lip. “I don’t have a single plan... except to spend the day with you.”

“Perfect! Then finish gettin’ dressed and meet me by the truck. I’m just about ready t’ go.”

Harry spun around and rushed down the stairs, only to stop midway and run back to give Louis a quick kiss. “See ya soon.”

Louis sat on his bed after Harry left, fingertips on his still tingling lips and butterflies in his stomach.

\-----

Harry wouldn’t tell him where they were headed, but Louis didn’t care because they were driving with the windows down and the wind was whipping Harry’s curls into a wild halo around his head as he laughed and chattered on about the new Humphrey Bogart film opening next month, and the fight the chickens were having that morning when he went to feed them, and how he couldn’t sleep last night because he was excited about today. Louis felt almost unbearably fond at how excited Harry was to talk about all of these wildly different topics. The summer sun had turned Louis’ skin honey-gold, making Harry’s pale hands look unblemished and pure as he slotted their fingers together across the front seat.

The orderly rows of the pecan orchards soon gave way to rolling pastures dotted with cattle and horses. Save for a few wispy clouds, the wide expanse of sky ahead of them was bright and clear. At some point Harry turned off the main road, the truck rumbling over a bumpy dirt path until he parked in the shade provided by the overgrown trees and tall grass.

“We’re here.”

Turning to Louis, he grinned broadly and Louis just looked at him like he was maybe a little bit crazy because there was not much _here_ , here. It was verdant and cool, which was a nice change from the heat and humidity, but that’s about all this spot had going for it. Well, that and the kudzu. It was rampant here, as it was back near Harry’s farm and frankly, much of the south. Louis marveled at the way it covered everything around them.

Harry giggled goofily and clasped his hands together under his chin, as if unveiling his surprise for Louis was his greatest joy. Louis couldn’t help but be endeared. Getting out of the truck, Harry walked around to the back, handing Louis a large empty bucket, then pulled out a rolled up blanket, a few towels, and a large basket covered with a floral patterned cloth.

“Come on, follow me. I promise, it’s worth it.”

Louis raised an eyebrow as he began to follow Harry along the barely noticeable trail. “You’d better not be takin’ me somewhere to kill me. I’ll haunt you and make your life miserable.”

Throwing his head back, Harry barked out a laugh as if Louis’ joke was the funniest he’d ever heard, and kept walking. Louis just shook his head and grinned at his feet. How had he ended up here? Running his eyes along Harry’s muscular shoulders down to his trim waist and the curve of his ass, Louis sighed and decided he didn’t care if Harry tossed him off a cliff, as long as he got to kiss him again. 

Turns out, Harry wasn’t intending to kill him. Instead, he’d led them to a little clearing on a hill where he’d spread out the blanket and placed the basket and towels down on it. The soft grass under their feet was dotted with mushrooms, some of them with caps as large as Louis’ palm. As he looked around, Louis could see that they were a number of blueberry bushes that looked like they’d once been planted in neat rows, but now were rather overgrown and wild.

A small family of blue jays darted from bush to bush, periodically cawing loudly and feasting on the ripe berries. As a warm breeze ruffled Louis' hair, he took in a deep breath and turned to Harry.

“What _is_ this place?” His voice was hushed, as it somehow felt appropriate to bestow a sense of reverence to the space. 

“It used t’ be the back end of a blueberry farm, but the family who ran it shut it down ages ago and ain’t nobody taken it over since. These bushes just kept growin’ on their own somehow.” Harry shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked around.

“Mama Jean and Big Jim used to take us up here when the girls were real little. There’s a small river down that way so we’d swim and play fer hours, then pick buckets full a’ berries and go home and make all sorts of preserves and cobblers and whatnot.”

Turning to Louis, he quietly added, “Those are some of my favorite memories growin’ up. I figured this might be somethin’ y’all don’t get up in New York...”

Stepping around the blanket, Louis moved closer until he was near enough to wrap his arms around Harry’s waist and look up at him. “You’re right. We’ve got nothing to compare to this up North. Thank you for sharing it with me. I love it.”

With a big smile, Harry bent down to pick up the empty bucket. “Come on, help me fill these and I’ll make us a pie later.”

“Ooh, I won’t say no to a promise of fresh blueberry pie.”

Popping a few blueberries in his mouth, Harry taught Louis the basics of berry picking and the two of them worked side by side––Harry teasing Louis by offering to get the berries at the top of the bushes, while Louis picked the ones lower down. 

“You’re lucky I like you, Styles. Otherwise you’d be doin’ _all_ the pickin’ while I take a nap.”

Giggling, Harry pulled Louis to him and kissed him, his lips lush and warm. With a groan, Louis opened his mouth to him, feeling Harry’s tongue slide against his as his fingers curled around Louis’ hip. The taste of blueberries in Harry’s mouth was a preview of just how sweet that pie would be, but Louis knew nothing, nothing, nothing could be sweeter than this… standing in this magical fairy ring of a clearing, kissing this beautiful boy in the warm summer sun. 

Eventually their kisses slowed to soft pecks, and then to foreheads resting against each other as Louis jokingly whispered, “Only been kissed for the first time a few days ago, and already you’re making me breathless.”

“Yeah? Ya like kissin’ me?” Harry’s voice was shy and Louis could see the hint of uncertainty in his eyes. 

“I like it. A lot. In fact, I’d like to do more of it.”

Harry’s laugh was loud and joyful, making Louis grin from ear to ear. “Well, let’s finish the pickin’ and then maybe we can find some more time fer kissin’.”

Once the bucket was overflowing with berries, they threw a cloth over the top to keep the birds away, and spread themselves out on the blanket to eat what Harry had packed for them. They ate and talked and kissed until Harry’s face was red from the stubble of Louis’ beard, and then they lay and talked some more. 

“It’s so peaceful here. Sometimes I miss New York, but other times I think about how nice life is when you get to live at a slower pace.”

Harry was laying on his stomach, carving designs with a pocket knife into the flesh of a large mushroom cap, but he looked up as Louis spoke. “What do ya think ya like best about it?” 

“About a slower paced life?” Louis took in a breath as he looked around where they sat. “I think, maybe, livin’ in a place like this you get a chance to really appreciate what you’ve got. You’re not always rushin’ to the next place or worrying about finding work… or whatever.”

He looked over at Harry’s face, still turned up to listen to him, and stroked a finger along his cheekbone. “And when you get a chance to slow life down a bit, and aren’t so distracted by unimportant things, maybe that’s when living really starts happening.”

Harry turned to nuzzle his cheek into the palm of Louis’ hand and smiled. “I’m glad ya slowed down long enough to find yer way here.”

“I am, too. I don’t usually stay anywhere much longer than a few months, so I don’t get to slow down very often.”

“Why’s that? Just not finding a place ya feel comfortable yet?”

Louis scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. “I’m not really sure, to be honest. The Depression hit my family hard. We lost our home, lived in our car for a bit, and we just always had to keep on the move to find work. I haven’t had a place I called ‘home’ since I was a kid and I guess I got used to short term work and moving on.”

“Do… do ya think ya might ever stop movin’?”

Louis turned his eyes up to the clear sky and thought about Harry’s question. “Sometimes I worry a bit that I’m going too fast and I might miss out on something because I’m always looking ahead, you know?”

“Yeah. I can understand that kind a’ thinkin’. Sometimes I’m happy just bein’ and not worryin’ about what I should be doin’... I just wanna enjoy what’s happenin’ right now.” Looking off to the trees, Harry chewed on his lip a bit, seemingly lost in thought. “Other times…” He looked back at Louis and turned on his side, resting his head on his hand. “Other times, I think about how much of the world I ain’t seen, and if I’m meant t’ do more with my life… and then I think about how sometimes I feel lonely here, even when I’m not alone. It’s hard bein’ different in such a small place.”

“I can see how that would be true.” Louis smiled sadly as he thought about how many things made Harry different from the people around him. “You’re a pretty deep thinker, Mr. Harry Styles.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, fondly, and set his carving aside. “I just read a lot. And I’m alone a lot, so I have time t’ think.”

“Well, I’m not gonna leave you alone much, so I guess you might just start getting stupider.”

Laughing, Harry pushed at Louis’ shoulder. “Shut up. You know that ain’t true. ‘Sides, you like t’ read as much as I do.”

“That... is true.” Louis sighed and leaned back on his elbows. 

Hesitantly Harry spoke up, “I- I brought some books with me… if you want?” 

His eyebrows flying up to his hairline, Louis sat up fully. “You did? Why didn’t you say so? Don’t hold out on me, Styles.”

With a lopsided smile, Harry twisted to reach into the basket and pulled out a couple of books. “Do ya know these?”

Louis looked at the small collection of books in Harry’s hands and smiled. “I’ve seen this one before…” Pointing at a lavender paperback with abstract figures drawn on it. “But I haven’t read any of them. Would you read a bit to me?”

Blushing prettily as Louis looked at him, Harry bit his lip as he nodded. “Yeah… sure. I’d like that.”

Laying down so he could rest his head in Harry’s lap, Louis stretched out with his hands folded across his stomach, and closed his eyes. With mock haughtiness, he waved his hand in the air. “Carry on.”

Shaking his head fondly, Harry picked up a hardcover book with a blue and green landscape drawn on its cover. “I’ll start with this one ‘cause she had such an incredible life… I kind a’ envy her adventures.”

_From the time I arrived in British East Africa at the indifferent age of four and went through the barefoot stage of early youth hunting wild pig with the Nandi, later training race-horses for a living, and still later scouting Tanganyika and the waterless bush country between the Tana and Athi Rivers, by aeroplane, for elephant, I remained so happily provincial I was unable to discuss the boredom of being alive with any intelligence until I had gone to London and lived there a year. Boredom, like hookworm, is endemic._

As he read in his slow, rich voice, the wild, true story of an English woman’s life in Colonial East Africa took shape through Harry’s tone and emotion. Louis knew what an incredibly vulnerable feeling it could be to share a piece of writing you liked. It’s like opening yourself up and saying, ‘look, this is part of me, this means something to me, I connect to this, and now you see more of me because I’ve shown it to you’. 

But Harry did it with such unaffected openness that Louis couldn’t help but want to protect him and make sure he never lost that part of himself. Taking hold of Harry’s free hand, Louis held it against his heart as Harry continued to read to him.

_“To see ten thousand animals untamed and not branded with the symbols of human commerce is like scaling an unconquered mountain for the first time, or like finding a forest without roads or footpaths, or the blemish of an axe. You know then what you had always been told -- that the world once lived and grew without adding machines and newsprint and brick-walled streets and the tyranny of clocks.”_

Closing the book with his finger holding his place, Harry looked down at Louis shyly. “Whadya think of it?”

Louis sat up so he could give Harry his full attention. “I really like the way she writes––her descriptions of the places and people make you feel how much she loved it there. She sounds like such a remarkable person.”

“Yes! Exactly.” Harry clutched the book to his chest for a minute as he looked around the clearing. “She did so many things that no one, ‘specially not a _woman_ , had done before. And she didn’t care at all what people thought a’ her.” 

“She sounds like someone who could never really be happy living a mundane, quiet life.” Louis added in, quietly, watching Harry’s wistful expression.

Looking back to Louis, Harry gave him a small smile. “Yeah… kinda like she was never gonna be held in by what the world expected of her.”

“Come here.” Louis held his arms open as Harry crawled over to be cuddled. “Sounds like you’re yearning for some adventures of your own, huh?”

With a deep sigh, Harry burrowed in a little further. “Sometimes I feel like… like I’m too big fer my own skin. Like I might explode if I stay here forever.” Harry was whispering into Louis’ chest so softly he almost didn’t hear it. “There’s just so much I wanna do and experience, but I’m afraid I might never get to.”

Although he itched to cheer Harry up, he also knew that solving someone’s problems wasn’t always the answer; sometimes a person just needed to be heard. Guiding Harry to lay down and rest his head on Louis’ chest, he wrapped his arm protectively around Harry’s shoulder, and continued reading from where Harry had left off. Eventually the warm sun and their general laziness lulled the two of them to sleep. 

\----

When they woke up, a little stiff from sleeping on the ground, Harry sat up and stretched, turning his face back to Louis. “Wanna have a swim?”

Louis’ eyes widened in surprise at the question. “I didn't bring any swim trunks.”

Harry leaned in to kiss his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Neither did I.” Getting up, he grabbed the towels he’d brought, and looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Ya comin’?”

Laughing brightly as Louis scrambled to his feet, Harry made a dash for a path through the trees. 

Catching up with him by the grassy edge of the river, Louis stopped to watch as Harry spread the towels out neatly and then looked back at him, with his hands on his hips and a flirty smile. 

“Ya ready?”

In the few seconds before Louis walked towards him, it seemed as though the world slowed down and everything but Harry blurred into the background. The splashing water, the chattering of birds, and the intermittent deep croaking of frogs were background music as everything else happened in slow motion. 

Harry’s eyes widened slightly, tongue darting out to wet his lips, as Louis stopped in front of him. With his heart pounding in his chest, Louis slowly reached out to untuck Harry’s shirt from his trousers, the fabric sliding out smoothly until it hung loosely around his hips. 

“This OK?” Louis looked into Harry’s hooded eyes, his voice cracking.

Harry’s breath was shaky as he whispered his assent and slowly raised his arms to let Louis lift the shirt over his head. Teeth sinking into his lip, Louis began to expose Harry’s stomach and chest, little by little. His nipples hardened at being exposed to the air, their dusky rose color contrasting sharply with the creamy whiteness of his skin. Louis’ mouth began to water as he ran his eyes across the flat planes of Harry’s stomach to the gentle curve of his chest. He desperately wanted to drag his teeth over the column of Harry’s neck and sink them deep into the thick muscle of his shoulder. 

As if Harry knew exactly what he was thinking, he slid a hand behind his neck and dropped his chin, looking down at Louis through his eyelashes. 

Overwhelmed, Louis’ words were thick with emotion. “You have _no_ idea what you do to me…”

Harry reached out to take hold of Louis’ hand, bringing it to his chest as he whispered, “Show me?”

Cupping the rounded muscle of Harry’s pec, as if it were a woman’s breast, Louis ran his thumb around his areola and nipple, watching it pucker. Harry stuttered out a moan as his hands flew to Louis’ hips, digging his fingers in. 

Louis stepped closer and fit his lips around the pebbled nub, nipping and tonguing around it as Harry pushed himself further into Louis’ mouth, panting. 

“Oh… my god.”

Groaning his response, his mouth full of Harry’s body, Louis reached his free hand up to pinch and tease Harry’s other nipple. Then, tearing his mouth away, he kissed Harry’s sternum right over his pounding heart, and looked up into his face.

“Can I undo your trousers, as well?”

“Y- yeah. Yes. _Please_.”

“Such a polite boy. I like that.”

Louis smirked as he set about unbuckling Harry’s belt and letting his loose trousers fall to the ground. As Louis ran his eyes over the length of his lean body, a deep blush covered Harry’s face and his hands moved to cover how his hard cock tented the front of his briefs.

“No, baby… don’t. Let me see you.” Louis kept his voice gentle and encouraging. “You look so good… so fucking sexy.”

“C- can I see ya, too?”

“Yeah, of course.” Louis pulled his shirt over his head and quickly stepped out of his trousers, letting Harry stare at his body. Squeezing his cock through his underwear to relieve some of the pressure, Louis watched as Harry’s eyes followed his hand moving along his length. 

“You’ve watched me touch myself before, you know.” Louis gave him a cheeky grin as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his briefs. “You never did tell me what you thought.”

Harry’s hands flew up to cover his face with a groan. “Oh god, Louis. Please don’t tease me.”

Stepping closer, Louis pulled Harry’s hands away and spoke quietly as he looked him in the eye. “I promise I’m not teasing. I _told_ you I liked it…” Pulling Harry against him, Louis began to lick and kiss along his neck, trailing his fingers over the warm skin of Harry’s back as he spoke. “I _told_ you I was wondering what you thought when you saw me, imagining you touching yourself while you watched…”

Harry whined as his arms wrapped around Louis’ back and his hips twitched forward, seeking friction for his hard cock. “Oh god… I- I did. I couldn’t help it. Ya looked so good, all wet and- Jesus, then ya were touchin’ yourself…”

Louis guided Harry to lie down on the towels he’d laid out earlier. Kneeling on all fours over him, he continued to kiss and suck at Harry’s skin. “I was… I was touching myself, but I was imagining that it was _you_ touching me.”

Gurgling out another moan, Harry arched his back off the ground as his hands dug into Louis’ shoulders. “Jesus. Fuck. Oh my god...”

“That’s it, baby… let me hear you. Just us out here. Love the way you sound.” 

Moving down Harry’s body, Louis kissed him everywhere, eventually making his way to nip and tease along the waistband of Harry’s underwear. Sliding a hand into Louis’ hair, Harry pressed his own head against the ground, chin to the sky as he panted, murmuring Louis’ name over and over.

“Can I take these off, baby?” The front of Harry’s briefs were soaked where he’d been leaking steadily and Louis ran a finger along the line of his hardness, circling his cock head, making a shiver run through Harry’s whole body.

“Yesssssss.” Harry’s breathing picked up as he hissed his answer through clenched teeth. 

Inching Harry’s underwear down his hips, letting the beginning of his dark pubic hair peek out, Louis kissed along his hipbone and v-line as Harry rested on his elbows to watch, slack-jawed. Placing a kiss low on Harry’s belly, Louis looked him in the eye as he pulled his briefs up, over his cock, and then down his thighs, letting Harry’s hard dick spring free.

“Fuck… you’re so big.” Louis stared for a second before pulling his eyes away from where Harry’s cock lay, leaking against his stomach, to look back at his flushed face. “So gorgeous, Harry. Every fucking part of you.”

Shifting so he could pull Harry’s underwear fully off, then removing his own, Louis kneeled between Harry’s bent knees. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like, OK?”

Nodding with glassy eyes, Harry whispered his “OK.” 

With a smile, Louis gently ran his hands along Harry’s strong legs, pushing them a little further apart and mumbling to himself as he bent to kiss the pale inside of Harry’s thighs. “Look at these legs… so beautiful. Never been kissed here, never been touched. Like a fucking flower, opening up for me…”

Harry whined and writhed, his fingers grasping at the towel under him, as Louis’ lips moved closer and closer to where Harry so desperately wanted them. He sighed as Louis’ fingers trailed along the soft crease between his groin and thigh, and gasped as Louis’ nose nudged his balls before he opened his mouth to lave his tongue over them. He arched up with a choked off moan as Louis wrapped a hand around the base of Harry’s cock and closed his lips over the head, slurping and sucking at him like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. 

“Fuck… I- I didn’t know… I- oh my god. That feels so _good_.”

Harry’s words were babbled and rushed, speaking more quickly than Louis had ever heard him before. Stomach muscles clenching as he sat up to watch, Harry cupped Louis’ cheek with his hand and gasped as he realized he could feel where his cock was inside Louis’ mouth. Staring at him as if in awe, he watched as Louis licked along his shaft, then swirled his tongue around the head, all the while moaning with pleasure––because really, Louis had nothing to complain about. The weight of Harry’s dick against his tongue, and the way it stretched his lips, made him dizzy with want. 

Pulling off for a breath, Louis ran Harry’s cock over his lips, the precome and his own saliva coating them like a perverted brand of lip gloss. “Feel good, baby?”

“S- so good… yer mouth s’amazing.”

Louis continued to jack Harry off as he pressed little kisses to his belly. “I can’t believe I get to see you like this, have you like this….”

“C- can ya show me how? I wanna suck you, too.”

Louis pressed his face into Harry’s hip and had to squeeze a hand around himself to keep from coming. “Shit, shit. Harry… oh my god.”

With a worried look, Harry pushed Louis back so he could see his face. “Are y’ OK? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

Panting slightly, Louis huffed out a little laugh. “No, no. I just… you’re just so _much._ Yeah, I’ll show you how. God... here, I’ll stand up, you kneel there.”

Clearly, he hadn’t thought this through very well. Looking down as Harry beamed up at him with Louis’ hard dick in his face was almost more than he could take. But as Harry leaned forward, Louis groaned and closed his eyes, promptly forgetting everything but the feel of Harry’s tongue as he hesitantly licked at the head of Louis’ cock, as if he was a kitten testing a bowl of milk. 

“There you go, sweetheart. Make it wet so you can slide it into your mouth… shit. Yeah. Like that.” Louis’ hand gently rested on the top of Harry’s head, his fingers twisted in the soft curls, as Harry’s lips suctioned tighter and his head began to bob up and down. 

“That… that’s so good. _Fuck_ , your mouth. Make me feel so good… taking me so well.” Staring down at Harry as he slobbered and moaned with his mouth full, Louis’ mind flashed back to the obscene way watermelon dripped from his face at the dinner table. Groaning loudly, he could feel his balls draw up tighter and the tingling pressure of his orgasm beginning to swirl through his groin.

“I’m gonna come, baby.” He tugged on Harry’s hair trying to warn him, but only succeeded in making Harry moan and cling to him more tightly. 

With both hands shoved into Harry’s curls, Louis’ eyes squeezed shut as he threw his head back and, with a deep moan, shot pulse after pulse into Harry’s mouth. Panting heavily as he started to come down, he opened his eyes to find Harry bent over himself, panting at Louis’ feet.

Before he could worry that something was wrong, Harry sat up with his face tilted towards Louis––cheeks flushed, hair wild, and come dribbling down his chin; he looked completely blissed out.

Louis huffed out a laugh as Harry raised a come covered hand. “Were you jacking off while blowing me?”

Harry’s eyes were hooded as he smiled dopily. “Yeah… I just couldn’t help it. 

Louis crouched down as he swiped a thumb through the come on Harry’s face, offering it to him, breath hitching as Harry lolled out his tongue, licking Louis clean. Kissing him deeply, Louis groaned as he tasted himself in Harry’s mouth.

——

They spent the rest of the afternoon letting the warm water of the river lazily flow over them, just enjoying each other’s company as they floated and talked, and ultimately, basked naked in the sun as they dried off. Harry had carved another mushroom cap with an intricate rope design twisted into an infinity knot, shyly pointing out how it was made up of his initials. 

“Here, take it. It looks like scrimshaw when it’s dried… that’s why I like doin’ the nautical designs on ‘em.”

Louis held the mushroom in his hand, tracing the delicate details. “How on earth…?”

Harry shrugged, blushing slightly. “Dunno. Been doin’ it since I was a kid. I guess I figured it’s the closest I’ll ever get to bein’ an 18th century whaler.”

Louis pulled Harry’s sun-warmed body closer and kissed his shoulder. “You really have the soul of an adventurer don’t you?” Looking back at the carving, he smiled. “I love it. Thank you.”

Eventually, it was time to pack their things and head back to the farm; an air of melancholy falling over them. Having driven a bit in silence, Harry looked over to where Louis sat, his feet up on the dashboard with his hand dangled out the window, and frowned.

Noticing his edginess, Louis raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Shrugging, Harry pouted his lips. “Dunno… just thinkin’.”

“About what?”

Flicking his eyes quickly to Louis, Harry sighed heavily. “Even though I wondered a lot about what I was missin’ out on, I didn’t think it would feel like this when I began t’ find out.” 

“What do you mean?”

Scratching his jaw, Harry watched the road as he spoke. “I guess I hadn’t thought about what it’d be like t’ get just a taste and then have t’ bury it and hide it away and only visit that feeling in secret.”

Louis put his feet on the floor and sat up straighter in his seat as he reached for Harry’s hand. “I’m sorry… I know. Sometimes it feels like the world isn’t fair at all.”

Shaking his head, Harry pouted. “I’m sorry, Lou. It was such a beautiful day. I don’t mean t’ go ruinin’ it with my grumblin’.”

“You’re not ruining anything, baby.” Smiling, Louis tried to soothe Harry’s tension. “And you’re not grumbling. But maybe we can find a way for you to hold on to the wonderful moments for longer, instead of feeling like you have to hide them away.” Looking out the window, Louis watched the scenery change as they drove, wishing he had a solution. 

As the grazing pastures changed back into farmland, Louis realized they were nearing White Oaks and their blueberry picking adventure was fading into the past. Suddenly an idea hit him.

He whipped his head around to Harry, face lit up with excitement. “What if you learned to take photographs?”

Brows furrowed, Harry looked at Louis with confusion. “What’re ya talkin’ ‘bout?”

Louis turned in his seat, one leg underneath him, so he could speak directly to Harry as he drove. “Pictures. What if you got a camera and learned to take pictures?” Hands gesticulating excitedly, he was liking the idea more the longer he thought about it. “That way you could capture the memories and be able to hold on to them, kinda like rereading your favorite scene in a book.”

Harry bit his lip and smiled as his eyes darted from Louis back to the road. “Yer crazy. D’ya know how much cameras cost? How’m I gonna do that?”

Undeterred, Louis sat facing forward again. “I don’t know. But you like the idea, don’t you? We can figure out the rest of it somehow.”

Harry reached out to pull one of Louis’ hands towards his lips, and kissed his knuckles. “Thank ya, Lou. I _do_ like the idea.” Squeezing his hand as he held it, a light blush colored Harry’s cheeks. “And I like when ya talk about ‘we’.”

“I like it, too.” Louis looked back out the window, smiling softly as thoughts of cameras whirled in his brain. 

\-----

The summer days continued to pass, most of them hot and muggy, most of them spent working hard in the fields. Now and then, Louis got to work closer to the house––fixing fence posts or making some minor mechanical repair on a piece of farm equipment––which brought him back within Harry’s vicinity, and allowed them to have lunch together under the shade of ‘their’ oak tree. 

But Louis’ favorite days were when it rained. Waking up to a rainstorm changed everything… there’d be no harvesting on a day like that, and even though that meant not getting paid, Louis knew he’d get to see Harry. Laying in bed, listening to the way the wind and rain rushed through the trees outside, he closed his eyes and imagined himself on a safari during the emerald season rains in Zambia––the saturated colors vibrant, and the grass waist high. He thought back to the book Harry had read to him, about the adventurer who had flown all over Africa, and wondered what kind of life that would be. 

Pulling out his notebook, Louis wrote down a few thoughts as he enjoyed the rare but welcome change of an early morning breeze through his open window. The barn door sliding open brought the loud sound of the storm inside, along with the deep, earthy smell of the waterlogged ground. His heart rate picked up at the sound of quiet footsteps ascending his stairs.

“Mornin’...” Standing at the top of his stairs, thick socks on his feet, Harry placed his wet boots and rain slicker in the corner to dry off. “Ya got room over there fer a visitor?”

With a grin, Louis scooted over in his bed and lifted a corner of the quilt. “Definitely… though you might wanna take those wet jeans off first.”

Adopting a drawl befitting a Southern belle, Harry fluttered his lashes and fanned himself with his hand. “Why, Mr. Tomlinson… I declare. Are ya tryna get in mah drawers?”

Laughing loudly, Louis patted the mattress and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I most definitely am, Mr. Styles.” 

“Well, good. I was hopin’ so!” Harry giggled as he pulled his jeans to his ankles and slipped off his socks before making his way into Louis’ bed. 

“Can you stay for a while? Or are people going to be looking for us?”

“There’s nothing to do today 'cause of the rain, so I told ‘em I was gonna hang out and read with ya fer a while. Ain’t none a’ them interested in that, so I think we’re safe til lunch time.” Harry stroked a hand over Louis’ bare chest, his fingers trailing through the sparse chest hair. “Anyway, that barn door is loud as all get out when ya go t’ open it. Won’t be no one sneaking up on us.”

Louis laughed, shifting his body closer to Harry. 

Propping himself up on his side as they kissed lazily, Louis ran his fingers under Harry’s shirt, feeling his stomach muscles tense. “Your skin is so soft… never wanna stop touching you.”

Harry shivered and moaned breathily as he lay on his back, one hand in Louis’ hair, the other trapped between their bodies. “Never want ya t’ stop. Wish I could stay here always… wish it would rain forever.”

Louis’ voice was muffled as he pressed kisses along Harry’s chest and unbuttoned his shirt. “Think we’d need to build an ark if that happened, baby.”

Tilting his head back in pleasure, Harry’s soft giggle turned to a gasp as Louis latched on to his nipple, sucking hard. “Ohhhh… yessss. Feels so good when ya do that.”

Spurred on by his whispered pleas, Louis slipped his hand down to cup Harry’s cock where it was straining against the front of his briefs, and began to stroke him slowly. Lifting his head to nuzzle in close to Harry’s ear, Louis began to whisper. 

“You like that, don’t you? When I touch you here? Like when I stroke your dick…”

Harry’s garbled whimper stuck at the back of his throat as his breathing picked up. 

Louis bit his lip watching as he worked Harry over. “You should see how big it looks in my hand… can barely get my fingers all the way around it.”

Harry flung an arm over his eyes, moaning as Louis continued whispering filth in his ear. 

“Gonna take these off, OK? Wanna touch your skin.”

“Please… touch me.”

Pulling his briefs off, Louis tossed them aside as he brought his hand to Harry’s mouth. “Lick, sweetheart. Get me nice and wet… gonna make you feel good.”

Louis’ breath hitched as Harry’s wide tongue began to lap at his fingers and palm, groaning and drooling. Once his hand was good and wet, Louis wrapped it around the base of Harry’s cock and began to stroke steadily. 

“There we go, feels so good, doesn’t it? Gonna make you come. God, look at you… gonna let you fuck me with this big cock one day…”

Arching up off the bed, his chest heaving, Harry shoved his forearm in his mouth to keep his moan from filling the barn.

Smiling wickedly, Louis circled a thumb around the head of Harry’s cock. “Oh… you _really_ like that idea, don’t you? Been thinking about fucking me? Spreading me open so you can slide that fat dick inside me?”

“Fuck, Louis… fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Louis squeezed his hand around Harry’s cock as he stopped jacking him off. “No, no baby. Not yet. We’ve got time…”

Harry slapped his hand against the mattress and whipped his head up off the bed to glare at Louis, making him laugh. “I promise you’ll get to come… I just wanna try something and see if you like it. You trust me?”

Harry cocked an eyebrow and nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I do. But…”

“Ah ah ah… be patient, darling.” Louis smiled and placed a soft kiss on Harry’s lips. “But tell me if I do anything you don’t like… promise?”

Sinking his teeth into his lip, Louis felt his dick twitch as Harry looked up at him, doe-eyed, and nodded. “Sit up for a second, let’s get this shirt off. You’ll be more comfortable.” As Harry sat there, fully naked, looking at him with so much trust, Louis let out a shaky breath. “So beautiful. Can you turn on your belly, baby?”

Hesitating briefly, Harry rolled over to lay on his stomach, watching Louis over his shoulder. 

“Christ, Harry… look at you.” Louis ran a hand down the long line of Harry's spine and over the curve of his ass, drinking in his broad shoulders and the delicate paleness of his skin. Leaning over his body, he began to press soft kisses to the beauty marks that dotted his back––working his way down from his neck, across his ribs, and finally to the sublime dip where his back curved up to the plump muscles of his ass.

Harry’s entire body shivered as his head dropped into the cradle of his arms, followed by muffled pleading. “Please, Louis… ’m so hard. Please touch me.”

“I will baby… I’m gonna take good care of you.”

Placing his hands on Harry’s ass, Louis squeezed and kneaded as he bent his neck to place another reverent kiss at the base of his spine. Slowly he ran a finger down between Harry’s ass cheeks, gently circling his hole, a thin layer of sweat making the glide easier. 

Stopping as Harry’s body tensed up, Louis whispered as he kissed his hip, “Don’t worry, darling, I won’t hurt you. You OK if I touch you here?”

Turning his face around to peek at Louis, Harry’s voice was rough and shaky. “Yeah, s’OK. I just... I don’t really know… whaddya gonna do?”

“I just want to make you feel good. I like bein’ touched here… thought you might like it, too.” As he continued to stroke over Harry’s hole, he smiled as Harry began to rut against the mattress. “Do you trust me? I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“N- no. I like it. Please don’t stop.”

“OK baby, I wanna get my mouth on you. Been dreaming about licking you everywhere.” As he spoke, Louis thumbed Harry’s ass cheeks apart, exposing his dusky pink hole, groaning as he watched it clench. “God, you’re just perfect everywhere… fuck.”

Letting a line of saliva drool from his mouth to pool in Harry’s crack, Louis watched as it slid across his hole and over his perineum. Then, bending his neck, he leaned in and licked back up in the other direction, flattening his tongue as he swirled around Harry’s hole. 

“Oh… _oh my god_ …” Harry seemed as if he didn’t know what to do with the onslaught of sensations––at first starting to scramble away, then pushing back on Louis’ face, moaning loudly. 

Louis pulled his face from between Harry’s ass cheeks, chin spit-shiny and red. “It feels good, doesn’t it, baby? But you have to be quiet.” Sitting back on his haunches, he tapped Harry’s hip, guiding him up onto his knees with his face pushed into the pillows.

With Harry’s noises muffled, Louis dove in like it was his last meal, pressing his face in deeply, slurping and sucking around Harry’s hole, his own cock hard and neglected. Spurred on by the way Harry began to rock back against his face, and the way his hole clenched over and over as Louis licked around and into it, he enthusiastically continued. 

Pulling back for a breath, Louis panted as he reached around to stroke Harry’s cock. “Taste so good baby, love touching you like this. Wanna make you come.”

Harry pulled his face from where it had been smashed against the pillow, his hair sweat-matted and his cheeks crimson. “Please… don’t stop… want yer mouth on me.” Then taking a gulp of air, he began to chant, his voice quiet, but thick with lust. “ _Please, please._ Lick me… so good. Want it. _”_

 _“Fuck..._ OK. Want you to stroke yourself while I lick you out. Gonna make you come so hard, baby.”

As Harry reached back to wrap a hand around his cock, Louis slipped a finger in his own mouth, coating it with saliva. Returning his face to Harry’s ass, relishing its tender texture, he slipped the tip of his finger inside Harry’s hole, breaching it just a bit as he continued to lick and drool around the intrusion.

“Oh… shit… oh my god, Louis. I’m coming.” 

Harry’s body convulsed with his orgasm, his scream muffled as his face pushed further into the pillow. As he collapsed against the mattress, Louis pulled his cock out of his briefs and tugged himself off––the sight of Harry’s languid sweat-slick body in his bed, and the earthy taste of him on Louis’ tongue, enough to push him over the edge in seconds as he spilled his release over Harry’s lower back and across his ass. 

\----

“Are you still working on your novel?” They were sitting outside in the shade of the oaks, having just taken a break for lunch, and Harry was distracted by making a crown of dandelions for Annie as they talked. 

“Yeah… but I haven’t been writing as much in the last few weeks.” Louis rolled over on his side, propping his head up in his hand, and smirked at Harry. “I’ve been kind of preoccupied lately, so mostly I’ve just been making notes.”

A light blush colored the apples of Harry’s cheeks as he dipped his head. Looking at Louis through his lashes, he smiled coyly. “Preoccupied? Whatever has been gettin’ in the way of yer writin’?”

Louis grinned, toothily. “You know _exactly_ what’s been keeping me from writing, young man. And if we were in private, I’d show you exactly what I’d been thinking about, too.”

With a waggle of his eyebrows and a sly grin, Harry changed the subject back to Louis’ writing. “Well, tell me what yer plan is when ya _finally_ get back t’ it. Are ya still writin’ about what farmin’ is like down here, or have ya changed yer mind now that you’ve lived it a bit?”

Rolling on to his back and looking up into the branches spread out above him, Louis mulled the question over for a moment, then turned his eyes back to Harry. “I’ve met some pretty amazing characters in the 6 months I’ve lived down in Georgia. All sorts of people and all of them have left a little bit of themselves in here.” Louis placed his hand over his heart as he spoke. “Some maybe a bit more than others… but I think bein’ here has changed me and I just might write about that.”

Harry smiled widely, his dimples carving deeply into his cheeks. “I love that idea. And I’d love t’ read some of yer writin’ if y’ ever want t’ show me.”

“I’d love to show you. Right now it’s a lot of bits and pieces, but I’ll find something worth sharing.” Waving away a fly buzzing around their food, Louis looked back at Harry, feeling suddenly shy. “I sent something in to The New Yorker magazine the other day though… a short piece I wrote. I’m hoping they might publish it.”

Harry put his sandwich down and clasped his hands together. “Oh wow! That’s excitin’! I’m sure they’ll love it.”

With a light laugh, Louis plucked a dandelion and tossed it to Harry. “Oh you _are_ , are you? Well, I wish you were the fiction editor there.”

Smacking Louis’ shoulder lightly, Harry stuck out his tongue. “You’ll see. I bet it’ll get published.”

As they finished their lunch in comfortable silence, Louis’ thoughts were jumbled and loud in his head. What if it did get published? It could lead to someone being interested in his as-yet unfinished novel. He needed to get back to work on it. But could he do that working here at the farm, spending every free moment with Harry? Louis knew he couldn’t stay here, living in Big Jim’s barn, forever. As much as he liked the pace of the South, he wasn’t cut out to be a farmer. He wasn’t sure he was cut out to stay in one place, either––he hadn’t lived that way since he was a little boy. 

And what of Harry? Finding someone like him was rare, Louis knew that. He knew Harry was special and even in just the six weeks they’d known each other, Lous knew he was falling for him. But how could they ever make anything work?

With all of these thoughts swirling in his head, Louis turned his head towards Harry. “Do you think you’re gonna take over the farm when Big Jim retires?”

Harry looked up from his food, surprised. “Oh. I- I don’t know. I mean, I think he pretty much expects me to, what with me bein’ his only boy.” Harry frowned at the thought. “I don’t really know what I’d do if I wasn’t farmin’. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

Louis felt a selfish wave of irritation hit him. “Well, do you _want_ to be a farmer? Do you _want_ to stay at White Oaks the rest of your life?”

Harry bristled at Louis' tone, sitting up straighter and putting his plate to the side. “First of all, yer talkin’ t’ me like there’s somethin’ _wrong_ with wantin’ that. Bein’ a farmer ain’t somethin’ bad and White Oaks ain’t exactly a bad place t’ live yer life.” Harry had crossed his arms now and was getting heated up the more he talked. “Plus, yer actin’ like I have a choice, anyway. What else am I gonna do? All I _know_ is farmin’.”

“That’s all you know so _far_. That doesn’t mean you can’t do any of the things you dream about doing.” Louis sat up, leaning towards Harry as he spoke, trying to keep his voice calm and diffuse the situation. “I’m not saying it’s bad to want to be a farmer. Really. It’s just… well, you’ve spoken so much about wondering what life was like outside of Georgia. You must have dreams besides farming, don’t you?”

As Harry started to pack up their unfinished lunch, he looked at Louis with an unreadable expression. “I’ve got lots a’ dreams, Lou. Not all of us get t’ live ‘em, though.” 

Louis sighed heavily as Harry got up to head back to work. “Harry… please. I- I’m saying this all wrong.” Standing up, he started to follow Harry back towards the farmhouse. “I just meant that you’re so smart, and have so many things you’re interested in, it’d be nice for you to get to explore what kind of life you could make for yourself… besides taking over the farm.”

Harry heaved a sigh as they walked. “It ain’t as easy as ya seem t’ think it is.”

Louis put his hand on Harry’s forearm, face earnest. “I know it’s not easy. I didn’t mean it that way. Honest.” As they neared the farmhouse, Louis suddenly remembered an earlier conversation. “Have you thought any more about learning to take pictures?”

Scratching a finger above his eyebrow, Harry shrugged. “Yeah, been thinkin’ ‘bout it. I like the idea… I just dunno how I’d go ‘bout affordin’ a camera. But maybe I can save up.”

“What would you do if you got one? What do you think you’d take pictures of?”

“Dunno, really… I liked what ya said the other day ‘bout capturin’ mem’ries… tellin’ stories that need tellin’.” His face flushed lightly as they set their lunch pails on the farmhouse porch. “I been lookin’ at some a’ those magazines with pictures from the war? I was thinkin’ how much those of us who weren’t able to be there still got a taste of what happened, how it felt… what the men experienced. I think I’d like t’ be able t’ do somethin’ like that?”

Louis raised an eyebrow at Harry’s words. “You want to cover wars? Be a photojournalist?”

Harry looked over his shoulder into the farmhouse, ducking his head at Louis’ exclamation. “No… not exactly.” With his hands in his pockets he began the trek towards the shed they were working in that day, Louis following at his side. “I was just thinkin’ ‘bout how when we’re livin’ in a time it don’t _feel_ like history, but then years from now ya look back and realize it was. So, like… what if I just took photos that would make people feel what I feel, make them understand what life is like, here and now––1946 in Wilcox County, Georgia.”

“The heat, an’ the hard work, and family, and the struggle to make a livin’...” Harry looked up at Louis with tears in his eyes. “What it’s like t’ be diff’rent, t’ be scared… what it’s like t’ hide.”

Louis’ fists clenched at his side, desperate to pull Harry into his arms and comfort him. But the shed they were in afforded them very little privacy so all he could do was wrap his arms around himself and try to soothe Harry with his words.

Later, when Harry snuck out to be alone with him in the barn, Louis pressed whispered comforts into Harry’s skin, kissing every inch of him, murmuring praises and apologies until the hazy purple light of morning sent Harry back to his own bed.

\----

July rolled on and the days wove together, the cucumber crops were done being harvested, so more men showed up to White Oaks to help with the peaches and watermelons. This meant that Louis had been given the job of driving the truck into town to bring boxes of fruits and vegetables to various markets and restaurants around Southern Georgia.

Sometimes Hank came with him to help, sometimes it was Billy Carson who’d been working on the farm while he was out of school––although he’d mostly been trying to court Willa. The best days, though, were when Harry accompanied him. Despite the ache in their backs and arms from loading and unloading the heavy crates, they knew market days meant long, uninterrupted hours in each other’s company.

It was one of those lucky days and the two of them had just made their last drop off; Harry was slouched against the passenger door, reading to Louis as he drove towards home, when he looked up from his book as Louis took an unfamiliar turn.

“Where ya headin’? This is the wrong way t’ the farm.”

“I know. I just have to stop off at the post office. I’ve got a package waiting for me there.”

“A package? From who? What is it?”

“Well, aren’t you a curious kitten.” Louis turned to Harry with a grin as he pulled in to a space in front of the post office. “You’ll see once I get it.”

Ten minutes later, they were on the road again and Louis could tell Harry was bursting at the seams. With a chuckle, he slid the small box across the seat towards Harry. “Go on then. You can open it.”

Like a child on Christmas morning, Harry tore into the box, slicing along the tape with his pocket knife and pulling out the packing inside. With a gasp, and a quick look at Louis’ profile, he pulled out a rectangular black and yellow box. 

“Louis… what is this?” 

“Open it up.” Louis could hardly keep his eyes off of Harry and pulled off to the side of the road so he didn’t kill them both in his excitement. 

Harry worked the top off the box, his teeth firmly pressed into his lower lip. When he finally managed to pull it off he stared, slack-jawed, until he raised his bewildered face up to meet Louis’ gaze.

“How- why… what _is_ this, Louis? How’d ya get it?”

Reaching into the box, Louis pulled its contents out and held it out for Harry. “It’s a camera. For you.”

Harry turned the compact black camera around in his hands, stroking it gently with his fingers, and then looked back at Louis in confusion. “I don’t understand. This must a’ cost so much money.”

Louis rubbed the back of his neck, a flush coloring his cheeks. He hadn’t really thought about how he was going to explain this. “Well, I had a bit of money saved, and I wrote a letter to a friend who works at the New York Times and… see, he could order a camera for work and get a discount on it, right?” Louis’ hands were shaking as he unlatched the camera and slipped the film in to show Harry how it worked. “I- I just wanted to do something nice for you, something to encourage you to try something new. Are… are you upset with me?”

Harry’s eyes widened at Louis’ question as he gently took the camera from his hands. “No! Not at all. I’m just... I’m kinda overwhelmed. I feel like I shouldn’t accept somethin’ so expensive. But…” Putting the camera up to his face to look through the viewfinder and play with the focus, he let out a rush of breath. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Louis smiled, wide and joyful, just as Harry clicked the shutter. 

Harry grinned. “My first mem’ry captured.” 

Taking a quick look around at where they were parked and seeing no one, Harry leaned in close and whispered “thank you” over and over, as he pressed gentle kisses to Louis’ lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote at the beginning of this chapter is from **Notebooks 1951 - 1959** by Albert Camus  
> The book Harry reads from to Louis is **West with the Night** by Beryl Markham


	3. August

**August**

_'You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have.'_ _\- F. Scott Fitzgerald_

Harry wouldn’t have been able to explain the camera to Big Jim and Mama Jean, so they kept it hidden in Louis’ loft in the barn. But Harry had become fascinated by it, taking pictures whenever he could and leaving the film with Louis to drop off for developing when he was doing deliveries. 

Louis often found himself the subject of Harry’s experiments with light and composition; although he was embarrassed by the attention at first, eventually he barely noticed as Harry zoomed in on his hands as they held pen to paper, or framed his darkened silhouette against a backdrop of the sun setting over the fields behind the barn. 

Nothing felt as good as writing while lying in bed next to Harry as he poured over photography books borrowed from the library. Fingers absentmindedly carding through Harry’s curls, Louis’ pencil scratched across the pages in his notebook, recording snippets of conversation and detailed descriptions of places he’d been. There was something magical in those moments––a sense of peacefulness that allowed Louis’ mind to still and words to flow; but at the same time, there was the electric feeling of being fully alive that came from exploring the edges of your creativity together with someone else.

The vulnerability he allowed himself, when sharing his writing with Harry, was something he’d never experienced. And from those moments in which he let Harry in, and was accepted and encouraged by him, there grew a sort of hope and joy Louis hadn’t had before––it was that unexplainable relief that it was possible to be _known_ , to be really _seen,_ even in a world where you were always made to feel part of you had to remain hidden. 

“Maybe someday I’ll learn how t’ develop my own photos.” Harry was kneeling over Louis’ bare torso, looking at him through the viewfinder as he spoke.

Stubbing out his cigarette, Louis grinned as the shutter clicked. “Oh yeah? Why do you want to do that?”

As Harry lowered the camera, he sat back on Louis’ lap and shrugged. “It’d be nice to have some pictures of us together and not worry ‘bout who was developin’ them.”

“That _would_ be nice.” Louis reached for the camera. “Let me take one of you… that way, at least we can each have one.”

“Yeah?” Harry stretched out on the bed, his fingers trailing along Louis’ collarbones. “Ya gonna put my picture in yer wallet so you can remember me when ya leave?” 

His words were light, but there was sadness behind Harry’s eyes. Louis knew they needed to talk. Summer was fading quickly and he’d have to move on soon––Big Jim wouldn’t need all the extra hands come September. 

“If I could, I’d paper my walls with pictures of you. What would be better than seeing your pretty eyes first thing in the morning and last thing before I sleep?” Louis’ voice was soft as he leaned in, gently kissing Harry’s forehead. “I don’t need a photograph to remember you though… I don’t know how I could forget anything about you.”

Harry’s gold-flecked eyes were intense as he listened, a light blush staining his cheeks. “What if ya could take any picture of me ya wanted? What would ya focus on?” His soft smile suddenly morphed into something wicked. “What would ya have me do?” His eyes lighting up as he rolled on to his belly, coyly posed like a pinup girl––ankles crossed in the air behind him, pointer finger of one hand teasing the spit-slick plumpness of his lip, the other cocked against his forehead in military salute. 

Louis’ breath hitched; Christ what this boy did to him. There was something so pure about his wantonness, his innocence intact even in his obvious enjoyment of physical pleasure. Louis had never known anyone like him.

His eyes zoned in on the way Harry’s candy pink tongue teased the corner of his mouth as he smiled, widely. Feeling the sweat begin to prickle along his hairline, Louis pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard, eyes fluttering shut as he groaned Harry’s name.

Getting up so he was kneeling on either side of Louis’ thighs, Harry crossed his arms in front of himself and slowly peeled his shirt over his head, leaving himself naked, save for his white briefs. As Louis sat dumbly, Harry tilted his chin down so he could watch himself as he ran his own hand down his softly muscled torso until his fingertips slipped under his waistband. Then, slyly looking up at Louis through his lashes, Harry’s whole hand disappeared into his underwear and cupped his hardening cock.

 _“Fuck.”_ Harry’s voice sounded strangled as he tilted his head back in pleasure.

Louis felt himself thickening in his jeans as he stared at the show Harry was putting on. Tugging himself slowly, breath coming more quickly as he continued, he was definitely putting on a show. 

So many thoughts were at war inside Louis’ brain––overwhelming lust was crowded out by the melancholy reminder that he’d be gone soon and would have to leave Harry behind. And just as soon as that thought cropped up, the guilt crawled in and ate at him. Louis wanted to experience _everything_ with Harry, but what if Harry wanted something to give to the other lovers he’d inevitably have once Louis was in his past? 

“Lou… want ya. Want ya t’ touch me.” And lust was in the lead again as Harry’s voice broke through Louis’ mental battle.

Pulling his hand away from himself, Harry moved forward so he was fully sitting in Louis’ lap, and began to grind against the hardness in Louis’ pants. Staring into his eyes, Harry took one of Louis’ hands and brought it around his back so Louis’ fingers dipped past the edge of his briefs to tease his crack. 

Lowering his voice, Harry led Louis' hand lower until the tips of his fingers brushed over his hole. “Want ya t’ touch me... here. Want… ya t’ fuck me.”

Louis’ eyes flew open as he pulled his hand quickly from where Harry had been holding it. “I- Harry. I can’t. I- I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Harry stopped moving and frowned. “What? Why? Ya don’t want to?”

“No… shit. No, it’s not that I don’t want to. I- I just think maybe you should wait? You’re so young…”

Harry’s frown deepened as he crawled off of Louis’ lap and sat on the bed facing him, arms crossed in annoyance. “I’m _twenty_ , fer God’s sake. Why should I wait? What’s goin’ on?”

Louis scrubbed his hands down his face, heaving out a big breath. “I just… I feel like... like maybe I’ve taken so much of your innocence from you already. Your first time shouldn’t be some hasty fuck in a barn, worried you’ll get caught by someone. You deserve more than that.”

“Lou. Ya haven’t taken anythin’ from me I wasn’t willin’ t’ give ya. And as far as what I ‘deserve’, I think I can make that choice myself.”

His voice shaking, Louis held Harry’s gaze. “I don’t want you to look back and wish you’d made a different choice. I don’t want you to regret me.”

Harry’s face softened at Louis’ confession, reaching out to hold his hand. “Honestly, yer everythin’ I never knew I wanted, I can’t imagine ever regrettin’ anythin’ I’ve done with ya.” Running his free hand through his hair, Harry watched Louis’ tortured expression. “Lou… please don’t look at it like yer _takin’_ somethin’ from me. You’d be _givin’_ me somethin’ so precious.”

Harry crawled over and curled himself around Louis’ body and held him. “I’m not pressurin’ ya, Lou. But I want ya t’ understand that I’ve thought about it… a lot. And I want t’ do this with ya. But only if _you_ also want to.”

“I do, baby. I really do…”

“Then _please_ believe me when I say I ain’t gonna regret eatin’ the candy.”

Louis looked at Harry with a confused expression and huffed out a laugh. “You _do_ talk some shit, Harry. What candy?”

Giggling, Harry pinched Louis’ hip as he smiled up at him. “It’s from a quote from ‘ _This Side of Paradise’_. You ain’t read it?”

“No. What kind of dirty books are you reading, young Harold?”

Laughing, Harry sat up and stretched across Louis’ body, reaching into his satchel. “It ain’t dirty! It’s beautiful. Hold on… I’ll find it for ya. I folded down the page.”

Finally finding the little orange book, and thumbing through the pages, Harry sat back and read; his deep, honeyed drawl seeping into Louis’ body and lighting up every nerve ending. 

_"I regretted my lost youth when I only envy the delights of losing it. Youth is like having a big plate of candy. Sentimentalists think they want to be in the pure, simple state they were in before they ate the candy. They don't. They just want the fun of eating it all over again. The matron doesn't want to repeat her girlhood—she wants to repeat her honeymoon. I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again."_

Closing the book, Harry leveled Louis with a serious face. “I ain’t gonna regret givin’ my virginity t’ ya, Lou. There’s no mem’ry of innocence I wanna hold on t’ _more_ than havin’ the pleasure of losin’ it with _you_.”

Louis stared at him, unblinking, for a moment before he let out a whoosh of breath and pulled Harry into his arms to hug him close. “You’re amazing. Have I told you that?”

“No. But feel free to do it as much as ya want.” Harry giggled as he worked his way back into Louis’ lap and cocked his head. “So? Whaddya think? Wanna try this again?”

Gripping Harry by the hips, Louis grinned up at him, wolfishly. “Yeah… I really, really do.”

Harry leaned forward, cupping Louis’ jaw to pull him closer, and kissed him. His mouth warm and wet, opening eagerly to let Louis’ tongue inside. Moaning and sighing as they kissed, Harry began circling his hips, desperate for friction as his dick rapidly filled again.

Pulling his own shirt over his head, Louis panted between kisses. “You sure we got time? I don’t want to rush you through this.”

“We’re good. Mama Jean and Big Jim were fast asleep when I snuck out. And they don’t wake up for nothin’.”

“Ok… let’s get these off then. I wanna see that gorgeous dick of yours.”

Mumbling curses under his breath, Harry rolled off of Louis’ lap onto his back and lifted his hips, sliding his briefs down and tossing them aside. Groaning at the sight of Harry’s cock laying against his belly, flushed and hard, Louis rushed to take the rest of his clothes off. Finally, with the both of them naked, he lay down beside Harry and kissed him. 

“You’re so beautiful… sometimes I can’t believe you’re real.” Louis ran his fingertips along Harry’s jaw and then down his neck, his heart pounding in his chest.

Harry’s voice was hushed and shaky as he answered, but the look on his face was determined. “I’m very real. And full a’ flaws, Lou. But I wanna be everything ya need.”

Harry bent his head to run his tongue along Louis’ chest and then latched on to his nipple. 

“You’re already everything I’ve ever wanted, Harry… _fuck_. Oh my god.”

Harry had turned on his side, wrapping his big hand around both their cocks to stroke them together as Louis pressed his face against Harry’s chest, licking and sucking at his salt-tangy skin. But he could feel himself hurtling towards his orgasm, and that wasn’t the plan for tonight. 

“Wait, wait. I- it feels too good. I’m gonna come.” Putting his hand on top of Harry’s, Louis stilled his pumping motion. “I wanna be inside you… gotta get you ready.”

Maneuvering Harry on to his stomach, Louis guided him to bring a knee up to his chest so his cheeks were slightly spread. Reaching under his bed, he pulled out a glass bottle, unscrewed the lid, and hooked two fingers into the thick white substance inside. 

At Harry’s look of confusion, Louis explained. “It makes everything slick, so it won’t hurt. Gotta make you wet... like… like a girl, before I can fuck you.”

Harry shivered and his eyes fluttered shut. “Oh my god… I ain’t never gonna be able t’ look at a jar a’ Crisco again.”

Louis giggled as he pulled Harry’s cheeks apart further with his clean hand. “I’m gonna put my fingers in you first, get you loose enough to take me.”

Kissing Harry’s hip, Louis ran his greased up fingers along his crack and rubbed the pads of his fingers around Harry’s hole, just getting him used to the feeling. Murmuring words of encouragement, he began to ease a finger inside of him, spreading the slickness and pumping in and out as he watched for any signs of discomfort. 

As Harry adjusted, he began to push back on Louis’ hand and ask for more––his undulating body and breathy moans making it harder and harder for Louis to keep calm as he added a second finger, and then a third.

“Fuck, _fuck…_ it feels so good. Why didn’t anyone tell me? Oh… my _god_.” Harry was grinding his cock against the mattress as he writhed on Louis’ fingers. “Christ, Louis. Please, I need y’ in me.”

“Shit, OK. Gimme a minute.” Louis pulled his fingers out and wiped them on the towel hanging over his footboard. “OK, come sit in my lap again, baby. We’ll start that way… let you be in control.”

As they rearranged their bodies, Louis propped his pillows up against the headboard and leaned back against it. Having made sure his cock was slicked up, he opened his arms and Harry gingerly positioned himself so he was kneeling above Louis’ lap. 

“You OK? You nervous?” Louis ran his clean hand along Harry’s chest, looking up at his flushed face.

His eyes flicking to Louis’, Harry nodded minutely. “A little… but I’m OK. Tell me what t’ do?”

Louis gripped Harry’s soft hip as he swore under his breath. “Fuck, OK. Let me just…” He ran his still slippery fingers around Harry’s hole once more, dipping his fingers in, doing his best to scissor them apart. “OK, so I’m gonna hold myself steady and you can put your hand over mine and just slowly lower yourself down. But… _really_ slow, baby. There’s no rush.”

Harry braced himself with one hand on Louis’ shoulder, looking down as his sweat-damp curls fell over his eyes. Slowly, slowly he began to press himself down, teasing his hole with Louis’ cock.

“Fuck… You feel so huge.” Harry looked at him wild-eyed, lips swollen and red. 

“You’ve gotta relax, darling. Kinda push out as you sink down. I promise it’ll fit.”

Harry gasped loudly as the fat head of Louis’ dick pushed past his hole’s first ring of muscle. “Oh my god…” Digging his blunt nails into Louis’ shoulders, Harry continued to take more and more of Louis in. 

Teeth digging into his lower lip, Louis was doing his best to just hold still despite the vice like grip around his cock. His voice sounded ragged as he ran his hands soothingly along Harry’s sides.

“You feel so good baby… doing so well.”

“Ngh…” Louis could see the veins straining in Harry’s neck as he struggled to push down.

“Relax, baby. You’re taking me so well. Feel so tight around me.”

Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead and smiled, shyly. “Burns a little. But… it kinda feels good.”

Louis’ eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tried to hold his body still. “Shit, shit…. Harry you don’t know what you do to me.” Breathing heavily, he tried to relax.

All his attempts at remaining calm went out the window as Harry’s ass finally met Louis’ thighs and a moan ripped through him. 

Pressing his forehead against Harry’s, the two of them panted into each other’s mouths as Harry’s body adjusted to the thick intrusion of Louis’ cock. 

“I- I feel so… full. Jesus.”

“Are you OK? Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight.”

“Yeah… ‘m fine. Just gettin’ used t’ it. You feel so _big_ inside me.” As his breathing started to even out, Harry shifted his hips in a little circle, whimpering as his eyes rolled back in his head. 

“Just lift yourself up on my cock and come back down… there you go, baby. Keep doing it like that. _God_ , you feel so good.”

The flush on Harry’s face had spread down his neck and across his chest, a thin sheen of sweat covering him, making his body glisten in the flickering light of the lanterns. Throwing his head back, curls backlit like a halo, Harry leaned his hands against Louis’ chest for leverage as his powerful thighs began to lift him up and down. Louis was sure he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

Watching Harry ride him made Louis’ heart clench—how was he going to leave this boy behind? The idea that what was happening with Harry was a fun summer fling had long passed; every day Louis was falling deeper. And worse still, he was afraid that Harry felt the same.

Harry swiveled his hips, raising and lowering his lithe body on Louis’ cock, moaning as he chased his orgasm. As he grew tired, he reached behind himself to feel where Louis was splitting him apart, circling his fingers around Louis’ shaft as he slowly lifted himself up and down in his lap.

Eyeing him with a coquettish smirk, Harry bit his lip as he slipped his hand further down to fondle Louis’ balls. “Does it feel good being inside me?”

“Fuck… it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. You’re making me crazy.” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s grin was wide and mischievous. “Think y’ can put me on my back and show me what it feels like to get fucked?”

With a growl, Louis flipped them over so Harry’s legs wrapped tightly around Louis’ waist as he began to piston his hips into him. Their sweaty bodies slapping against each other and the wet squelching of his cock thrusting into Harry’s hole sounded obscene. But it was Harry’s moans that were really driving Louis wild.

“You like it, baby? Like being fucked?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… so good. You feel so good.” His fingers dug into the meat of Louis’ ass as he pounded into Harry. “God, please don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop. Wanna fuck you forever.” Guiding Harry to pull his own legs back and apart so he was spread wide, Louis fucked into him harder. “Come on baby… wanna see you come for me.”

“Yeah… gonna come.” Harry looked so thoroughly debauched, sweat-drenched and arched off the bed, begging to be fucked. 

Slipping his hand between them, Louis wrapped his fingers around Harry’s stiff cock, the sweat and precome making it easier to jerk him off. “Gonna fill you up and then fuck you again and again.”

“Ngh… oh my god.” Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head as he gasped for air, his cock spurting over Louis’ hand and covering their bellies in his come. “Yesssss.”

“Fuck, Harry… Christ.” The feeling of Harry’s hole clenching around his cock, pulsing with his orgasm and its aftershocks, pushed Louis over the edge as he pumped his load into Harry’s body with a heavy groan, collapsing on top of him. 

Their labored breaths echoed in the otherwise silent barn as Louis pushed Harry’s sweat-slick hair off of his face with a smile and rolled off of him. 

“How are you? You feel OK?”

Harry smiled, and turned his head to look at him with a little laugh. “My legs feel like jelly. And I feel a little sore and kinda wet… down there.” He blushed prettily and smiled. “But I feel amazin’. Thank you.”

Louis giggled and stroked a hand across his cheek. “Sorry about the wet… it just felt so good. I’ll be more careful next time.’

“I mean… I kinda like it? Makes me feel like I’m yours.” Harry looked at him questioningly, and Louis felt his heart explode. 

“You are, baby. You’re mine. And I’m all yours.”

Pressing a kiss to his lips, Louis rolled over and grabbed his towel to clean them both off. 

As Harry curled into him, drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face, Louis lay awake with his heart tangled in a confusing mix of emotions. Harry made him want to put down roots, made him want to give up everything just to be near him. And at the same time, the idea of tying himself to a place that would stifle their ability to be themselves, was terrifying. 

As usual, when Louis was conflicted, he turned to writing; furiously scribbling his thoughts and questions, snippets of poetry and dialogue, trying to draw an answer from somewhere inside him. Exhausted and no closer to solving anything, Louis reluctantly woke Harry with gentle kisses so he could sneak back to the farmhouse before his family woke up. 

Alone again, Louis lay in his bed, staring at the wall until the sun came up. 

\-----

“D’ya write everythin’ in that journal?” Harry was busy fixing some electrical wiring in one of the trucks as Louis sat nearby taking a break from his day’s work.

Scratching his head, Louis looked up from his journal with a shrug. “I guess I write down anything I want to remember clearly.”

Pulling his head from under the hood, Harry leaned against the truck, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth. “D’ya think writin’ it down when it happens makes ya remember it better than if ya did it later? Like… don’t some things just stick really clear in yer mind?”

“I think memory is a tricky thing. When I’m writing about something I don’t have much emotional connection to, like... the route I take to get to Carson’s soda shop, I think I remember that very clearly.” Louis’ gaze drifted slowly out across the field in front of them as he continued. “But if I think about something like when my mama died, or… meeting someone special,” His eyes flicked quickly to Harry and back to the field. “I think our memory plays tricks on us a bit.”

Louis flipped through a bunch of pages and looked up at Harry with his head cocked. “You ever hear of Tennessee Williams?” Harry shook his head no, and Louis turned back to his journal finding the page he wanted to read from. “He wrote this play that was a big hit in New York last year that’s written as a memory of past events. I really liked one of the things he said in the script for it:”

_“The scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart.”_

“I like that idea––’memory is seated predominantly in the heart’. We always think of it as coming from our minds. But our emotions get tangled in there, don’t you think?” Louis frowned as he thought about it. “I think maybe people remember things the way they _wish_ they were. Or forget things they don’t like.” He raised his journal in the air as he smiled at Harry. “But I try to be honest with myself and write down everything as it happens—the smells, the sounds, and most of all, the feelings—even if they’re embarrassing. Or sad.”

Harry sat on the bench next to him, taking a long drink from a mason jar full of cold water, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand when he was done and turning the intensity of his stare towards Louis.

“Have ya written about me? About us?”

Louis’ face flamed red as he tried to hold Harry’s gaze. “I- I have. I’ve written a lot about you in these last couple of months.”

Harry leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, looking down at his boots. “And how d’ya think you’re gonna remember me when ya leave, Lou?” Turning his face back towards Louis, Harry’s voice caught in his throat as he spoke. “What feelings will you remember? Will ya be embarrassed to look back on this summer? Or sad?”

Despite the blistering heat, Louis felt a shiver run through him when Harry looked at him that way. It wasn’t just the physical beauty of his face, though clearly Harry was beautiful, but his complete lack of artifice and the willingness with which he offered Louis his heart. 

“Harry…” Louis had turned his body to face him full on, trying to express the sincerity he felt. “I can _only_ think of this summer with happiness. Every minute I spend with you is better than the last.”

“But yer still leavin’ at the end of the month.” The flat tone of his voice twisted inside Louis’ stomach.

Louis sighed deeply, raking his hand through his sweaty hair. “I am. But Harry, it’s not because I don’t want to be with you. I just… I can’t stay here.”

“Well why _not_?” Harry got up with a huff, heading back to the truck. “There’s still work here, year ‘round. And if you didn’t wanna work on the farm, I betcha could get work doin’ somethin’ else. And it’s so pretty here in the fall, and you ain’t been t’ Rock City yet and…”

Louis walked over to stand in front of him, placing his hand on Harry’s chest, just over his heart. “As much as I can see myself being with you, I can’t imagine living in Georgia much longer. I- I’m just not cut out for staying in one place for so long.”

“That sounds like just makin’ excuses for wantin’ t’ leave.” Effectively ending their conversation, Harry turned back to the engine with a look of hurt on his face that felt like a punch to Louis’ gut. 

Standing there for a minute, staring at the part of Harry’s body sticking out from under the truck’s hood, Louis tried to find a sufficient answer. With a sigh, he gave up, walking back out into the stifling humidity of August. 

\----

Harry’s moodiness lasted a few days, during which he avoided Louis as much as he could, which made it difficult for Louis to try and resolve their disagreement. Ultimately, though, life returned to normal and Harry started talking to him again.

By the time their next day off rolled around, they hadn’t reopened the wound surrounding Louis leaving, although a sense of sadness hung in the air. But today they’d woken up early to drive out to Tybee Island to spend a day at the beach, and excitement tingled throughout Louis’ body as Harry pulled his truck into the beach parking lot. The wet heat Louis had come to expect from life on the farm was blessedly cut by the breeze blowing in off the shore, and as they stepped out of the pickup, Louis marvelled at the stretch of sand and clear skies laid out in front of them. 

“I haven’t been to the beach in years.” Reaching into the bed of the truck to grab a couple of towels and his satchel, Louis looked at Harry with a grin.

Harry had been quieter than usual on their way out, but he perked up at Louis’ enthusiasm. “I haven’t either. Not since I was a kid. I’ve been dyin’ t’ come out t’ Tybee though.”

The white sand beaches of the north island were bookended by clear blue ocean and the Tybee Lighthouse on one side, and shoulder high beach grass and a sprinkling of summer cottages on the other. It was the perfect place to spend a day cooling off in the water, lazing in the sand, just enjoying each other’s company as Harry took pictures here and there. As late afternoon rolled around, their stomachs grumbling, the two of them strolled the boardwalk looking for a place to eat. 

Settling in on the outdoor porch of a casual seafood shack right on the water, Louis stretched his legs out with his arms behind his head and sighed. “Man, I wish every day could be like this.”

He looked over as Harry leaned back against the porch wall with a dreamy smile, staring out at the sea. His arms were still dusted with sand and a slight sunburn was forming across his nose, but he looked stress free for the first time in recent days as he breathed out a quiet, “yeahhhh.” 

They sat in silence, alone on the porch just listening to the sounds of the beach, until Harry turned to look back at Louis. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout what you said the other day. ‘Bout mem’ries?” 

Although Louis’ body stiffened as Harry spoke, wary that they might be headed for another argument, he tried to sound casual when he answered. “Oh, yeah? What were you thinking?”

“Well, y’ were sayin’ how mem’ry often gets mixed up when feelin’s come into play, but less so when it’s somethin’ yer not so connected to.” Louis nodded as Harry took a long drink of his soda. “And I was thinkin’ ‘bout how I got so upset when we were talkin’ about you leavin’ and I knew I was upset about a few things, but I couldn't put my finger on everythin’ I felt…” Harry reached into his satchel and pulled out what looked like a very well-loved book. 

Flipping through it, he found the dog-eared page he’d been searching for. “You prob’ly think I’m silly, but I was readin’ this book again and there was this here part...” He looked up at Louis, his eyes asking permission to read.

Louis leaned in closer, his arms resting on the table. “I never think you’re silly. What’d you find?”

The waves breaking on the sand and the distant call of seagulls played a dreamy accompaniment to the deep richness of Harry’s voice as he began to read.

_“I wanted to go on sitting there, not talking, not listening to the others, keeping the moment precious for all time, because we were peaceful all of us, we were content and drowsy even as the bee who droned above our heads. In a little while it would be different, there would come tomorrow, and the next day and another year. And we would be changed perhaps, never sitting quite like this again. Some of us would go away, or suffer, or die, the future stretched away in front of us, unknown, unseen, not perhaps what we wanted, not what we planned. This moment was safe though, this could not be touched._

_Here we sat together, Maxim and I, hand-in-hand, and the past and the future mattered not at all. This was secure, this funny little fragment of time he would never remember, never think about again…For them it was just after lunch, quarter-past-three on a haphazard afternoon, like any hour, like any day. They did not want to hold it close, imprisoned and secure, as I did. They were not afraid.”_

“I guess when I read it, it made me realize that I kinda feel like this summer’s been the first time in a long time that I’ve been content––I haven’t thought about everythin’ I’d been missin’ out on, or what I ain’t been able to do yet,” Harry looked over his shoulder at the screen door to the restaurant and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Because I just been lovin’ every moment I get t’ be with ya.

“But, it’s like, at the same time, I know that I can’t keep the summer locked up in a box, things are changin’ and…” Tears welled up in his eyes but he angrily brushed them away. “And when yer gone, all I’m gonna have is my mem’ries and maybe fer you it’s just any ol’ day havin’ lunch at the beach or sittin’ around readin’, but it ain’t like that for me and I _hate_ it.”

His voice dropped to a whisper as he looked angrily at the book in his hands. “I’m scared and I’m angry and I don’t know what t’ do about _none_ of it.”

Harry sniffled as he stopped talking, poking his fork into a piece of crab and then abandoning it as he looked up at Louis. 

“Harry, I’m so sorry. I- I don’t know what to say.” Louis dug his nails into his palms to keep himself from reaching out to soothe Harry with a touch. “I promise you though, it’s not just ‘any old day’ when I’m with you. My memories of our time together might not be exactly the same as yours, but I think they’re just as important to me as yours are to you.”

Their meal finished, Harry pulled a few dollars out of his wallet and left them on the table and stood up to leave. As Louis followed him, Harry turned his head and frowned. “But then why can’t ya stay? It can’t just be that yer itchin’ to move on.”

Loading their things back into the truck, Louis’ heart began to beat faster. Talk of staying made him feel like he was being strangled. “I- I can’t, Harry. I haven’t stayed in one place for more than a few months since I was a kid. I don’t know why, but the thought of it honestly scares me.” Nervously, Louis pulled his hat off and mopped at his sweating forehead. “I just feel like I need to keep moving, need to always have something in the works…”

Louis looked at Harry’s defeated posture as he stood by the truck, unmoving, and his heart began to beat a little harder. “But… Harry. What if you left _with_ me? Come to New York. We could be together there.” Louis got more excited as he thought about it, imagining showing Harry around, introducing him to his friends, taking him places he could show him off as his _boyfriend_. “There’s a bigger gay community there… I know people. There’s _so_ much more we could do together.

“Aren’t you tired of being somewhere where we always have to be afraid someone’s gonna hear us? I know _I’m_ tired of the farmhands talking about ‘fairies’ and people giving us the evil eye when we stand too close to each other.” He popped open the truck door and sat in the passenger seat as Harry climbed behind the wheel. “I just wanna be somewhere that’s a little more free.”

Harry started the truck and backed out of his parking space, his lips set in a firm line. “You _know_ I can’t do that, Lou.”

“But why _not_?” Louis realized he was whining.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes. “ _Because_. Because I can’t just leave Big Jim and Mama Jean after everythin’ they’ve done for me. Who’s gonna run the farm? Because how’m I gonna live in New York City? The biggest city I ever been to’s Savannah, and even that seemed overwhelmin’ t’ me.” Harry was gesticulating agitatedly as he drove, keeping just one hand on the wheel. “ _Because_ what kinda work am I gonna do in New York City? Don’t think there’s much need for tendin’ goats or repairin’ tractors up there.”

Every reason Harry threw out felt like a door slammed in Louis’ face, but Louis was stubborn and tended to fight back like a caged animal when cornered. And, other than settling down in one place for too long, there was _nothing_ that made him feel more cornered than being trapped in a car having an argument. The frayed edges of panic gripped at Louis as tensions rose and he couldn’t get away, his natural tendency to be a peacemaker going right out the window.

“Christ, Harry… there could be ways to work around that stuff. But maybe you just want to stay in your safe little box here and never even _try_ to make any of your dreams a reality.” In the back of his head, Louis knew he was being unfair, but he couldn’t stop. “You _talk_ about wanting to leave, but when I push you on it, all of a sudden _I’m_ the one being unreasonable!” 

Harry glared at Louis as he continued to drive. “That’s totally unfair. And I shared those dreams with ya ‘cause I _trusted_ ya; I can’t believe yer mockin’ me the minute I don’t do things the way ya want me t’ do them!” 

Throwing his hands in the air, Louis grunted out his frustration. “I’m not _mocking_ you. But you sure got upset when I wouldn’t do things the way _you_ wanted me to do them, either. Did you ever think that maybe I have dreams, too!”

“And what’s yer dream then Louis?” Harry sneered, his face distorted in anger. “‘Cause it certainly ain’t a life with _me_. It’s clear ya don’t want the slow, simple life ya _said_ ya liked, so I guess someone like me ain’t gonna do it fer ya either.”

“Well, for someone who complained about wanting a life full of adventures, and who’s worried about getting stuck in this small town, you sure have a lot of excuses for staying.” Louis’ voice was a snarl, and the longer this went on, the more agitated he was getting. “Seems to me you’re too scared to actually do any of the things you talk about.”

Harry choked on a sob and turned to Louis with wet eyes. “Don’t talk t’ me ‘bout bein’ too scared when yer literally runnin’ away the first chance ya get.” 

“Jesus Harry, I’m not runnin’ away from _you_ ! I wanted you to come _with_ me. I feel like you’re not even listening to what I’m saying––we’re just talking in circles.”

“I’m listenin’, but all I’m hearin’ is how I need to give up everythin’, change my life, and follow ya with no plan at all. I’m listenin’, but I ain’t heard nothin’ that makes me feel that ya wouldn’t run off on me again a few months from now.” Harry’s voice wavered as he yelled at Louis, his face looking like he was on the verge of breaking down. “Yer not givin’ me anythin’ except a half baked fantasy and ya prob’ly won’t even follow through on _that_!”

Louis pulled back like he’d been slapped, his face mottled and eyes wide with shock. “You- you don’t _trust_ me? You think I’d just take off and leave you behind?”

“Well that's what yer planning to do, ain't it? Maybe it's all yer good at.” Harry was mumbling under his breath, his body pushed all the way over towards the driver’s door.

“Fuck you, Harry.” Louis’ voice was venomous as he spat his words at Harry. “I’ve done nothing but support you and encourage you since we met.”

“No. What ya’ve done is try and change me. Try t’ build up this idea of who ya think I am, or should be… buyin’ me a camera, tellin’ me I should do somethin’ more with my life. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Good ‘ol country boy Harry was never gonna be enough for ya, was he?”

“Well, _clearly_ I didn’t see the real Harry, because I thought you already _were_ brave, but you’re not. You’re a coward, lashing out like a snake when poked. You’re _nothing_ like I thought you were. And if that’s how you see me, what’s the point of me staying, anyway?”

As they pulled back into the farm, still arguing, Louis immediately got out, grabbed his bag and slammed the door behind him. Barely looking at Harry, and exhausted from fighting, he stalked off towards the barn to turn in early. Sliding the barn door open, he was surprised to see a light on in the loft. Worried, he’d left the lantern burning, he rushed up the stairs, almost screaming when he saw Big Jim sitting in the arm chair, waiting for him. 

“Holy shit!” Louis’ hand flew up to his chest feeling as though his heart was going to jump out. “Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting to see someone up here. W- what’re you doing here? Did you need something?”

Big Jim was silent as he ran a hand along the grey stubble on his chin, his eyes squinting at Louis while he calmly chewed a toothpick. Louis flicked his hair off his face, nervously, as the silence dragged on and he ran his eyes around the room wondering if something had broken or there might be some explanation for Big Jim to be in his room. 

As he brought his attention back to where Harry’s father sat, his eyes landed in Big Jim’s lap and he noticed, for the first time, that he was holding a small, leatherbound notebook very similar to Louis’. 

With a gasp, Louis’ eyes flew up to Big Jim’s watery grey ones as his stomach dropped and an icy chill ran through his body. “M- my notebook. I- I didn’t realize I didn’t have it with me.”

Big Jim raised a bushy eyebrow as he rose from the chair. Louis had never noticed how he towered over him but then again, Louis hadn’t had to deal with an angry Big Jim before. 

“I figured ya didn’t know ya’d lost it because if ya did, ya’d a’ come runnin’ to get it, wouldn’t ya, boy?” Big Jim’s voice was dark and more menacing than Louis had ever heard it. 

Summoning up more courage than he felt, Louis reached out a shaky hand. “M- may I have it back, please?”

“What? This here?” Big Jim held Louis’ journal as if he was handing it over, only to snatch it away when Louis moved to take it. “Ya want this back? This disgusting _filth_ ya wrote about my boy?”

Louis felt the color drain from his face as he leaned against the bedside table to steady himself. “Y- you read it?”

He didn’t even know why he cared, because he knew Big Jim could never understand, but to him there was something sacred about his writing, something that felt so wholly a part of Louis that it was like being stripped naked in public knowing someone had read what he wasn’t ready to share. And to know someone was disgusted with moments he’d shared with Harry––moments that, to _him,_ were everything good in the world––felt like an evisceration, as if his innards had been carelessly spilled on the floor to rot. 

Big Jim was still talking, oblivious to Louis’ inner turmoil. “Of _course_ I read it! Annie found it and thought it was a book of yer ‘stories’. She brought it to Mama Jean t’ read t’ her at bedtime!” His eyes bulging, face red and sweaty, Big Jim looked nearly apoplectic. “Can ya imagine that woman openin’ it up and readin’ this… this _perversion_? 

“We open our home t’ ya, have ya spendin’ time with our girls, eatin’ our food, actually _payin’_ ya t’ be here…” An ugly sneer creased Big Jim’s face, as spittle collected in the corners of his mouth. “And all this time yer being a goddamn pervert under our roof!”

Tears were running down Louis’ face as Big Jim yelled. He knew there was no use trying to explain, there was no way to make him understand how much he’d fallen in love with his son and that what they felt for each other was the furthest thing from perversion. 

Pointing a meaty finger in Louis’ face, Big Jim growled, “If I find out ya actually acted on _any_ of these disgusting thoughts… I’ll track ya down wherever ya wind up, and make ya sorry ya ever set foot on my farm.” Ripping a chunk of pages from the journal, he threw the mangled book on Louis’ bed as he walked towards the stairs. “Pack yer things, Tomlinson. I want y’ off my property immediately. I’ll be waitin’ downstairs.”

The dull thudding of his boots on the staircase were all Louis could hear above the pounding of his heart. He began to pack up, as if in a trance, his mind racing. Throwing his clothes in a bag and collecting his books and a few toiletries, he looked around the sparse room to see if he’d forgotten anything. As he dragged himself to the stairs he suddenly remembered something and rushed back to pull the drawer of the bedside table open. 

Sliding his hand inside, his fingers closed around the familiar curved shape of the delicate carving Harry had made him on their day at the blueberry field. It had dried, as Harry said it would, and Louis wrapped it in a shirt as if it were as valuable as a Faberge egg, placing it at the top of his satchel next to what was left of his journal. 

Heaving out a shaky breath, Louis descended the stairs to find Big Jim waiting for him, arms crossed and a scowl still on his face. 

“C- can I at least leave a note to say goodbye to everyone? To Harry?”

“I’ll pass on your condolences for havin’ to leave.” Big Jim barked out the reply in a way that left no question in Louis’ mind that he’d do nothing of the sort, and his heart ached with the thought that his last interaction with Harry was an argument. 

Marching Louis to the edge of the property where the path to the main road started, Big Jim stood and watched as Louis took a last look at the place that had been home for the last three months. 

Lowering his voice to a venomous whisper, he leaned in close enough that his warm breath fanned out across Louis’ face. “Don’t think ‘bout tryin’ to contact him, boy. _Nothin’_ goes on in this house from now on that I don’t know ‘bout. Got that? My boy ain’t no fuckin’ fruit and yer not gonna _make_ him one.”

Louis turned and walked away, the dark path in front of him lit by the brightness of the stars and the waning moon overhead. Stopping at the bend in the road, he stood in silence, looking back at the farmhouse, remembering that hot day in June he first came upon White Oaks Farm. Now the late-summer song of katydids floated on the breeze around him, but their monotonous cadence made him feel anything but comforted. Instead, the droning noise became background music to thoughts of Harry finding him gone without a word and Louis emptying the contents of his stomach at the side of the road. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote at the beginning is from **The Ice Palace** F. Scott Fitzgerald  
> The book Harry reads from to Louis in the barn is **This Side of Paradise** by F. Scott Fitzgerald  
> The book Louis reads from to Harry is **The Glass Menagerie** by Tennesee Williams  
> The book Harry reads from to Louis at the beach is **Rebecca** by Daphne Du Maurier (which is also the book where he got the names for the baby goats)


	4. September • October • November • And Beyond

**September • October • November • And Beyond**

_“The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.” - Albert Camus_

Harry lay in bed listening as his family went about their morning. Willa’s high pitched giggle, Big Jim’s rumble, chairs scraping across the floor, plates clattering. He felt heavy limbed and tired, his stomach turning when he remembered Louis’ face as he slammed the door to Harry’s truck and stormed off. 

Turning over to smash his face into his pillow, Harry groaned. “God, I’m such a jerk sometimes.”

Mama Jean’s voice floated up from downstairs, calling everyone to breakfast. Sighing deeply, Harry got out of bed and got dressed. He’d face Louis at the table and apologize as soon as they were alone. 

Trying to tame his hair a bit with some water, he threw on a clean pair of jeans and a plaid shirt he knew Louis liked, then made his way to the table. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, and pouring himself a cup of coffee, Harry sat down with a grunt. 

“What’s wrong with you this mornin’, son?” Big Jim quirked up a heavy eyebrow over his morning newspaper. 

“Nothin’, Daddy. Just didn’t sleep so good.” Smiling at Annie who was shoving buttered toast in her mouth, Harry took in the rest of the table and frowned. “Where’s Louis? Ain’t he workin’ the field with Clem today?”

Big Jim slowly folded his paper, putting it to the side of his plate and took a slow sip of coffee. “Louis’ gone, son. Said it was time t’ move on.” 

Harry’s fork hit the table with a clatter as he tried to cover his choking sound with a cough. “Wha- Whadya mean? I just saw him yesterday, he didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout leavin’.”

“Yeah, well… some people just pick up ‘n go. Can’t never really count on these temporary field hands, can ya?” 

His mind spinning, but trying desperately to keep the emotions from showing on his face, Harry nodded and went back to poking at the food on his plate as he tried to appear casual. “Oh. Yeah, ‘course. He say where he was headed?”

Opening up the paper with a snap, Big Jim answered with a simple “Nope,” and Harry knew the discussion was closed. 

Pretending his food didn’t suddenly taste like cardboard was grueling. But he knew Big Jim hated wasted food, so he did his best and snuck the rest under the table to the dogs.

“Well... I’m gonna go check on the goats and get the day started, I guess.” Only Annie smiled back at him, her cheek smeared with grape jelly. 

Stepping out of the farmhouse, Harry walked towards the goat pen with his head in a fog. Daphne and Max came running to him as he opened the gate––old enough to feed themselves now, they still greeted him with excitement, bleating a loud welcome as soon as he approached. The realization that Louis wouldn't be around to see them grow up made Harry’s chest tighten as he blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. 

As he moved through his day, Harry played their fight over and over in his mind. Had Louis left last night right after they got home? Or had he spent the night waiting in the barn for Harry to come so they could talk, but packed and left when he didn’t? Either way, he was gone and Harry would never get the chance to make things right. Taking his lunch on the back porch, he ate mechanically, staring into the trees without seeing. Adelaide tried to engage him in conversation, but he could barely pay attention; his thoughts were all a million miles away. 

He was on auto-pilot the rest of the day, eventually begging off dinner with the family, telling everyone he was too tired. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he stared around the room he’d lived in for the past fifteen years. 

Over that time, toy trucks and stuffed animals had been replaced mostly by books and an occasional trophy for activities Big Jim and Mama Jean had allowed. But as twenty-year old Harry took it all in, he realized how impersonal his space was, how it had become such a reflection of who he was on the outside, with barely a whisper of who he was inside. 

Louis had accused him of being a coward, and maybe there was a bit of truth to that. It was so much safer to continue being who people were used to you being. It wasn’t _so_ bad to be this Harry, so why rock the boat? But what if he showed them who he thought he was on the inside and no one accepted him?

The problem was, Louis had also shown Harry what it was like to be free, to be _himself,_ and how was it possible to ignore now that he knew what joy felt like? The more he thought about it, the more impotent he felt. And the longer he sat there with that feeling, the more the confusing mix of sadness and rage boiled up in him. 

The house was silent as he cracked open his door and noiselessly moved through the hall. Stopping briefly to pull a bottle from Big Jim’s liquor cabinet, Harry walked across the lawn to the barn and snuck in through the rear door. 

Once inside, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dark. Startled briefly by the swooping of the barn swallows, he moved towards the stairs leading up to Louis’ loft. Breathing heavily as he reached the landing, he stopped short and stared. The pulled-back curtains meant the room was lit up by the pale light of the moon, making it easy to see that the loft was completely bare––bedding stripped and ready for the next lodger.

Placing the bottle on the small table next to the bed, Harry turned in a slow circle as images of time spent in that space flashed through his mind––Louis’ bright laugh, his delicate fingers following a line of text as he read out loud, fevered skin as they pressed up against each other, murmured words of praise… Harry choked out a sob and fell to his knees, his face buried in his hands. 

He stayed there for a few moments, his chest heaving, trying to make sense of what had happened. Louis was gone. Without a word. Harry knew he’d lashed out in fear and had pushed too far, but he hadn’t thought Louis would actually _leave_. But Harry had said awful things to him... 

_If that’s the way you see me, what point is there in me staying anyway?_

And Harry would be a fool to try and chase him, he’d shown himself to be immature and cruel and who would want to be with someone like that?

_You’re nothing like I thought you were._

Wiping his wet face on his shirt sleeve, Harry looked towards the closet door that had been left slightly ajar, and crawled forward. Moving a loose floorboard aside, he reached in and pulled out a familiar yellow and black box, and then a handful of undeveloped rolls of film. With a sob, he clutched it all to his chest. At least Louis hadn’t taken the camera back. At least he’d left something for Harry to remember him by. 

Sitting heavily on the edge of the mattress, Harry unscrewed the bottle he’d grabbed, and took a long pull from it. Choking as the liquor burned his throat and made his eyes water, Harry looked accusingly at the label. Whiskey ads never made it _look_ like it tasted like paint thinner. With a shrug, he took another sip anyway. He deserved to feel like shit. 

The alcohol hit his system quickly, making him both morose and uncoordinated. Muttering to himself as he began jiggling the top off of the camera box, he looked in surprise at the envelope sitting neatly inside. 

With a shaky hand he put the camera aside and held the envelope in his lap. His head was woozy and his heart pounded uncomfortably as he gingerly opened the flap to reach inside. As he pulled out eight small, black and white photos, Harry let out a mangled sob, the tears running down his face again. 

Louis must have had them printed while out on one of his delivery runs and then hidden them away. Tracing his finger along the scalloped edge of the photos in his hand, Harry sifted through them, slowly. A profile shot of Louis in the doorway of the repair shed, his feet propped up, cigarette hanging from his lips. A close up of Louis’ strong hands buried in Daphne’s curling fur. A couple of attempts at capturing the beauty of sunrise over the farm. 

Harry took another drink and then drew in a sharp breath at the next photo. It was Louis, shirtless and asleep on his stomach, dappled shadow from the leaves of the overhead tree making a delicate pattern across his back. Harry whimpered at little snippets of memory… how warm Louis’ skin had felt that day, how they’d laughed so hard Harry snorted soda out of his nose, how Louis had tucked a daisy into Harry’s curls and called him beautiful. 

Laying down on the bed Harry heaved big, gulping sobs, his tears collecting in a wet patch on the bare mattress. He felt more alone than he ever had before Louis had arrived at White Oaks. He’d been lonely before, but this went deeper––now, not only was he lonely, but it also had become clear that he had no one who really knew him, no one to confide in, and no one he could lean on. Almost everything that was important to him had to be kept a secret, and Harry could feel it burning a hole inside of him. 

Eventually, he packed the photos and camera back up and stashed everything away in its hiding place. Taking another drink from the half empty bottle of whiskey, distantly noting that it went down a lot easier than it had at first, Harry stumbled down the stairs and back to the farmhouse. 

\----

Something had surely died in his mouth. Or maybe he’d swallowed a handful of dust and cobwebs in his sleep. Harry frowned, smacking his lips, and peeked open his eyes only to shut them tight with a croaking groan. Feeling dizzy and nauseous as he tried to sit up, he rushed on wobbly legs to the bathroom.

The horrible sensation of prolonged dry heaves was not one Harry was familiar with, never having had a hangover before; but as he sat on the floor, curled around the toilet bowl, he swore on everything holy he’d never drink again.

Finally pulling himself up to brush his teeth, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror––eyes puffy and swollen, skin pale and blotchy, hair a wild mess. Groaning again, he washed his face, cursing himself. 

Harry felt “off” all morning––food tasted weird, he still had a headache and slight nausea, and most annoyingly, his vision was blurry. 

“Goddamn whiskey.” Rubbing at his eyes, Harry mumbled to himself as he sat on a stool, fixing a broken window frame. “Don’t know why anybody drinks. Never doin’ that again.”

Wrinkling his nose, he looked around and called out to Willa as she worked nearby. “What’s that awful smell? Is someone burnin’ somethin’ in the chicken coop’?” 

“Whaddya talkin’ about? I don’t smell nothin’.” She frowned, looking around to try and figure out what he was talking about. 

“You can’t smell that? Smells like… burnin’ chicken feathers.” He made a small retching noise as he began to wring his hands repeatedly. “God, it’s awful. How can ya not smell it?”

Willa walked over to Harry, putting her hands on her hips and frowned down at him. “You feelin’ OK, Harry? Yer actin’ kinda weird.” 

He _felt_ kind of weird. It must be from the whiskey. But it wasn’t getting better as the day went on. 

Feeling suddenly drenched in sweat, his heart pounding, and eyes blinking rapidly, Harry watched as his sister went pale. Harry’s eyes were wide and panicked as he looked up at her. “Wha’s happenin’ Wil…?”

“Harry… can ya hear me?”

_She looks scared, why’s she scared? Wha’s goin’ on? Why’s she runnin’ away… don’t leave me..._

His body went rigid, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself falling over.

Then… nothing. 

\----

When Harry opened his eyes again, he was laying on his side in the grass, Mama Jean kneeling in front of him. What was going on? Why was he laying down? Why did he feel so fuzzy-headed? He blinked slowly, trying to focus.

“Whasss…” His mouth wasn’t working, everything felt heavy and his body hurt.

“Don’t try to talk if it’s too hard.” Mama Jean’s voice was soft and soothing. Harry closed his eyes and focused on her hand stroking his back. “Everythin’s OK, baby. Let me help ya sit up.”

Woozily, Harry let his mother pull him up so he was in the shade and leaning against the shed wall. Slowly he began to focus on what was around him and on her gentle, tired face. 

“How’re ya feelin’, sweetheart? Can ya understand what I’m sayin’?”

Nodding, Harry tried again to speak, but his tongue felt lazy and he was exhausted.

“OK, good. Ya had a seizure, baby. It only lasted a few minutes.”

Harry felt himself frown. _But I don’t get those no more._

“It’s been a long time since you had one. Poor Willa didn’t know what t’ do. So glad I was here.”

Mama Jean was tenderly running her hand through Harry’s hair, holding a damp dish towel to his cheek as she sat on the ground next to him. He could hear her speaking, but was only taking in bits and pieces.

“...body went stiff… fell like a tree trunk… yer arms were wavin’...” Lowering the dish towel to her lap, she showed him the blood on it. “Ya hit the side of yer face when ya fell. But I don’t think it’ll scar or nothin’.”

Tears welled up in Harry’s eyes as he leaned forward to be cradled in her arms. He was so tired and right now, all he wanted was some comfort. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’. We’ll get ya t’ bed and then fetch the doctor. Don’t know why this happened… it’s been so long. Maybe ya just need new medicine or somethin’.”

\----

Doctor Abernathy looked to be in his late 60s, white hair and grandfatherly in appearance, but gruff and unsympathetic as he examined Harry.

“It’s a good thing ya weren’t drivin’ when it happened. Could a’ killed yerself.” Rifling through his medical bag, he cocked his head at Harry. “Have ya been doin’ anythin’ unusual lately that put ya under more stress?” 

Harry’s stomach clenched at the memory of his breakdown last night and all the whiskey he’d had, but he shook his head no. Just another secret. 

The doctor nodded his head and pulled out a pad to write on. “It’s been a while since I last seen ya, Harry. Have ya become sexually active since then? With others or… yerself?” 

Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Big Jim frown and cross his arms. Harry’s heart rate spiked as he blurted out his answer. “NO! What’s that got t’ do with anythin’?”

With an air of smug condescension, Dr. Abernathy took off his glasses to clean them. “Well, m’ boy. Sexual perversion and degeneration _has_ been shown to bring on epileptic seizures.”

Big Jim’s deep voice rumbled from the doorway of Harry’s bedroom. “I don’t think I like what yer implyin’, Doctor. My boy ain’t doin’ nothin’ perverse. I’ll thank you to keep that nonsense to yerself and just write him a prescription for his medicine.”

“Ain’t nonsense, Jim. It’s _science_.” Harry felt himself cringe as the doctor turned his withering gaze back to him. “But I’m sure yer boy ain’t doin’ nothin’ he ain’t supposed to. Ain’t that right, Harry?”

As his exhaustion took over, Harry’s mouth was dry as the desert and his words came out like a whisper. “No… I ain’t.” 

“Well, then. I’m done here. I’ll write ya a prescription downstairs, Jim.”

Big Jim stood in the doorway looking at Harry after the doctor walked out. “Doc’s got a wild hair up his ass about deviants, an’ he don’t like that we ain’t regular church goers…” His bushy eyebrows pulled into a frown, as he took a step further out the door. “I trust ya, son. But if I find out y’ being doin’ somethin’ that y’ ain’t meant t’ be doin’... yer gonna be mighty sorry.”

As his father closed the door behind him, Harry pulled his cover up to his neck, curled into a ball, and tried not to cry. 

\----

As September rolled on, life went back to normal. For the most part, anyway. Big Jim and Mama Jean had always been over-protective, but as he’d grown out of the seizures, they’d backed off, allowing him at least some sense of autonomy. However, the recent episode seemed to have brought back all of their fears about letting him try anything new, or do anything on his own. 

One of the girls was always with him when he was working with the animals, Hank did the driving when they went to the market for deliveries, Big Jim was close by when Harry was working in the office. On top of all of this, Harry’s nervousness about his father’s increased suspicion any time he tried to have some prolonged time alone, kept him constantly on edge.

There were no more trips to the blueberry fields, and no late night talks under the stars. Harry became even more quiet than he’d been before––books were, once again, his constant companions, and there wasn’t much that could draw him out of his silence at family meals. 

Big Jim and Mama Jean started getting the family to go to church more regularly. Their excuse was so Willa could see Billy Carson, the boy who’d been courting her since the summer. But Harry soon realized it was also an attempt to find friends for him and, even worse, a push for him to date. 

“Yer twenty years old, son.” Big Jim was driving the family to a church picnic as he spoke over his shoulder to Harry. “Yer gonna need to find yerself a wife one a these days. Ya can’t do that sittin’ in yer room with yer nose buried in a book.”

Mama Jean chimed in from the front passenger seat, a happy smile on her face. “D’ya remember Betty Latham? She was two years behind ya at school. I ran into her mama the other day and she said Betty ain’t had no gentleman callers yet.” 

Harry was sure he looked like a deer in headlights as he tried to follow what was going on. “I’m just fine with my nose in a book, Daddy. And n- no, Mama. I can’t say I remember her. But I’m sure she’s very nice.”

“Well, Betty’ll be at the picnic, Harry. And she’s lookin’ forward to meetin’ ya. I done told her mama all about ya.”

Seeming pleased with herself, Mama Jean turned back around in her seat and that was that. Harry was apparently expected to spend time with Betty Latham today. And if she was amenable to it, he’d be expected to take her on a date.

Harry stared out the window wondering how his life had taken such a drastic turn in the wrong direction.

\----

Much like life on the farm, Harry’s parents set the ground rules and he kept his head down and did as they asked. So maybe making an effort with Betty would mean they’d ease up on him in other areas. 

The cool breeze and cloudless sky made the day perfect for a picnic, and as they exited from the car, Harry resolved to do his best to find something in common with Betty Latham. 

Not long after arriving, Mama Jean found the Lathams and called Harry over to be re-introduced to their daughter. Much to his embarrassment, they quickly found an excuse to leave him alone with Betty. She smiled prettily, demure in a polka dotted dress and coordinating purse, as she waited for him to lead the conversation. 

“Um… so, my mama tells me you and I, we went to school together.” Harry felt a blush coloring his face as he realized how awkward he was when it came to small talk. 

“We sure did. I guess ya don’t remember me, but y' haven’t changed at all… just got taller. Ya still got those dimples though.” She laughed quietly and then rolled her eyes. “I’m so sorry for my mama forcin’ ya t' meet me. She’s quite a busy body.”

Looking down at his feet, Harry rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled at her joke. “Well, I can’t say I was lookin’ forward to it, because I only found out ‘bout 10 minutes ago.” He looked back up into her blue eyes and smiled. “But, uh… I’m glad they gave me a little push. Would ya like t', um... take a little walk before we eat?”

Her face lighting up at his question, Betty laced her arm through his. “Why, yes! I’d like that a lot.”

\----

Harry tried with Betty. He really did. He rationalized it by telling himself that if he could just feel even _some_ of what he felt for Louis, life would be so much simpler. Willa coached him on what girls liked on a date and he dutifully listened, prepared to be the best gentleman caller he could be. 

Betty was a nice girl, Harry could see why he should like her. It wasn’t her fault that her eyes weren’t quite the right shade of blue, or that her gentle voice lacked a certain rasp. She wasn’t to blame because he missed the rough feel of bristle when he kissed her cheek, or because when he hugged her, he longed for the firmness of muscle but only found softness. 

Harry pushed himself to ignore it all because it was the first time in years he’d felt Big Jim was proud of him, and he missed that so much more than he’d realized. 

So Harry tried. And before he knew it, Harry had a girlfriend. 

Today he’d taken Betty for a picnic, trying to take advantage of the weather and avoid a sudden cold snap that October sometimes brought. The leaves had begun to change, rich shades of amber and scarlet exploding everywhere. As he took it in, his heart clenched as he remembered telling Louis how beautiful Georgia was in the fall––there’d been so many things Harry had wanted to share with him.

“It’s so pretty out here, Harry.”

Betty’s hair was golden; long, but twisted up in the current fashion. For a moment he had a phantom memory of stroking his fingers through short, brown hair and he coughed to cover the sob that threatened to leave his throat. 

“It is, isn’t it? It’s my favorite time of year I think. Somethin’ about the first cold spell always makes me feel alive, like there’s the possibility t’ start fresh.”

“Do ya think so? I think I prefer the Spring. I love flowers.” Betty sat on the blanket and smiled up at him, patting the spot next to her. 

Harry scratched his jaw, looking at her for a moment, then sat down beside her. “So… are ya still likin’ yer job at Woolworth’s?”

“Oh, it’s nice. I like bein’ ‘round people all day––chattin’, helpin’ ‘em find what they need and all. I bet workin’ on the farm’s real different though.”

“Yeah. I guess. I don’t know that I really love doin’ it though.”

Betty looked at him in shock. “Whaddya mean? Yer daddy built up such a great farm. Ain’t he plannin’ on y’ takin’ over when he gets older?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably and started to unpack the basket of food while he tried to think how to answer. “Well, yeah. I guess he is. The thing is though… I don’t think I wanna work on a farm my whole life.”

Confusion showed on Betty’s face as she tried to process that idea. “But… what else would ya do? Don’tcha think it’d provide a nice life fer a family?”

Harry frowned slightly as he chewed a slice of apple. “Well, sure. But, if I ain’t happy, what diff’rence would it make if I was makin’ a good livin’?” Harry looked around at the wide open space they sat in and shrugged. “What if I had a dream t' try somethin’ else? Like… what if I wanted t' be a photographer, or somethin’?”

Scoffing, Betty picked at some potato chips and answered in a lightly patronizing tone. “Harry. Yer 20 already. Almost 21. Ya can’t be daydreamin’ about things that ain’t never gonna happen. Ya gotta think about the future.”

Suddenly Harry could picture the next 60 years of his life, living at White Oaks with Betty Latham and he felt a part of him withering away. 

“Yer right, Betty. It was a silly thing t’ say.”

“That’s OK, Harry. I’m right here t’ make sure ya stay on track.” She laughed and delicately popped a grape into her mouth. 

\----

On their way back to Wilcox county, they pulled into a soda shop so Betty could “freshen up”. Harry poked around, looking at the magazines for sale up front while he waited. Most of them were fashion and beauty oriented ladies’ magazines, but there was a familiar name mixed in amongst all of them: The New Yorker.

Looking over his shoulder towards the ladies’ room, Harry pulled the magazine from the rack, and thumbed through to the table of contents. He knew he was being silly, but he remembered Louis had talked about wanting to publish something with them. As his finger trailed the page, his breath hitched. 

Below a handful of commentary pieces and a poem by Ogden Nash, there it was…

**_Fiction_ **

L.W. Tomlinson p.82 _Our Places of Exile_

Harry slapped the magazine to his chest, eyes wide and heart pounding. Quickly reaching for his wallet, he rushed to the front to pay the 15 cents just as Betty returned.

“Buyin’ a magazine?”

Harry tried to collect himself, there’s no way Betty would know _why_ he was buying it. “Um… yeah, I- I like to read this one and they don’t sell it at Carson’s.”

She glanced at the cover briefly, and then smiled disinterestedly. “Well, that’s nice. Come on, it’s gettin’ late.”

\----

Finally dropping Betty off at home, Harry rushed back to White Oaks, desperate to read what Louis had written. Just having the magazine sitting next to him in the passenger seat made him feel more alive than he had in months. 

He knew he’d have to be extra careful with it, though; Big Jim seemed to have eyes everywhere. Wedging the magazine in between the bushes, he brought all the picnic things inside and spent the evening with his family, as usual. Nearly vibrating with nervous energy by the time everyone went to bed, he waited until he was sure they were all asleep before he slipped out.

Quietly grabbing the magazine from its hiding place, he ran to the barn. Once inside, Harry followed the familiar path to the loft and went straight to the closet. Only once he was inside, with the door closed, did he dare turn on the flashlight and pull the magazine out of the paper bag. 

Smiling at the cover art of children raking fall leaves in front of a house with a big, red barn in the background, Harry carefully turned the pages to find Louis’ story. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his flashlight illuminated the page.

**_Our Places of Exile_ **

_By L.W. Tomlinson_

_“… there are people you miss instantly after parting, and then gradually less and less;_ _and there are a few — very few in a lifetime — you become slowly and then increasingly aware of missing, at first it’s discomfort and then misery and then agony, like being deprived of oxygen.”_

_I read this quote from Christopher Isherwood a few years before I met you. Before I lay on the green grass under the oak trees and watched the wind run its fingers through your curls the way I longed to do. I’d always liked the words, the way one often enjoys beautiful things––from a distance. I relished how the sentences curled around and tickled my mouth, how their cadence pleased my ear._

_But I never really_ _felt_ _that quote until I lost you._

_And after I dragged what was left of me up from the floor, I began to wonder why. Not why did I lose you––because I knew why––but why did this feel as if I’d lost a limb?_

_A childhood begun in tumultuous times set the scene through which I learned the way the world works. From one day to the next, nothing was guaranteed. Not education, not food, not safety, not even home. And so, very early on, I learned that it was best to make my own way._

_You couldn’t lose something you had no ties to._

_New cities, new towns, always moving on. Friends made and lost, until there stopped being a point to it. It seemed impossible to feel secure enough to plant myself and grow roots. Would that thought ever bring a settled peace instead of frantic fear?_

_It seemed unthinkable to tether myself to a place._

_Last night I dreamt I went to the farm again. The long road up to your house was lit by starlight, the moon was barely a sliver… do you remember the first night we met? But this night there was no lantern to guide me. No ethereal beauty by my side._

_But there I was, in the deep south again, the heaviness of the night had lifted the oppressive heat, and a cool wind blew through the leaves. The soft call of owls was layered over the buzzing of cicadas, while I walked barefoot on a carpet set with stars._

_Your sister would have caught the twinkling lights in a jar and said they were fairies._

_And what would you say? Would you call my name as I ran my hands across your pale skin? Would you kiss me with your watermelon-sweetened lips and whisper your secrets in my ear?_

_Last night I dreamt I found you again…. your eyes the color of the first leaves of spring, your voice like a song. You said you’d been waiting for me, that I could stop moving and grow some roots. ‘Come,’ you had said, ‘Stop runnin’ and stay.’_

_And I pictured myself standing still to let your goodness wrap around me, to completely engulf me… and I didn’t feel scared. I felt relief. I’d found safety._

_I never had a place I called home. There was nowhere I felt I truly belonged, so I kept moving, too afraid to slow down and stop._

_I didn’t realize that I’d found home when I had you._

_So now all that’s left are memories. Do you remember how you once said you wished you could lock that summer up in a box and keep it forever? I understand now what you meant. I’d give anything to be able to just unlatch the lid and live a few of those days again._

_In my dream, I found you again, and you were mine._

_In the light of day I treasure every memory of when that was true._

_“There are no goodbyes for us._ _Wherever you are, you will always be in my heart.”_

_L._

Wiping the tears off his face, Harry sat, stunned, just staring at the magazine. Whatever he’d thought Louis would write, it wasn’t this. He hadn’t expected it to be about him, about _them_. 

He read it again. And then once more, trying to understand how someone who felt this much for him could have just left with no goodbye. Why did Louis sound so despondent over losing Harry when he hadn’t fought to keep him? Could something else have made him have to leave suddenly? But then why hadn’t he contacted Harry at all? Something wasn’t adding up. 

Frowning at the thought that so much of what was important to him had to be hidden away in this closet, Harry carefully placed the magazine under the floorboards with his camera and then sat in the darkness, trying to collect himself.

What was he supposed to do now?

\----

Two days later, Harry drove down to Montgomery County with Hank to make a few deliveries and pick up supplies. Having split up in order to get the job done more quickly, Harry found himself dropped off at Armstrong’s Feed Supply on his own. Looking around the store as he waited to place his orders, his eyes landed on a pay phone mounted on the wall by the front door. 

Chewing at his bottom lip, Harry looked around the mostly empty store, as he casually made his way over. Picking up the receiver, he dialed 0.

“Operator. How can I help you?”

Her nasal voice startled Harry and his heart rate picked up as he quietly asked, “Um… can ya get a number in New York City fer me?”

“Yes sir, what is the name, please?”

Looking around him to make sure no one was listening, Harry swallowed harshly. “Uh… Louis Tomlinson.”

“That’s T as in Tom, O, M as in Mary, L, I, N as in Nancy, S as in Sam, O, N as in Nancy?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Hold please.”

His heart pounding in his ears, Harry jumped at the sound of the operator’s voice returning to the line. 

“Yes, sir. I have two listings for an L. Tomlinson in Murray Hill and one for a L.W. Tomlinson in Greenwich Village. Would you like all of them?”

“Oh! Oh... no. Just the last one, please. Um, and the address if ya have it.”

He picked up the pad and pencil sitting on the shelf next to the phone, and waited. 

“L.W. Tomlinson, SPring 6-1618. 116 MacDougal Street, New York, New York, 10012. Is there anything else you need, sir?”

“N-no, thank ya very much.”

Harry hung up the receiver and stared at the piece of paper in front of him. He couldn’t know for sure, but there was a very real possibility that he held Louis’ telephone number and address in his shaking hand. Quickly folding it up, he tucked it into his wallet and moved back to the feed counter to do his job before Hank returned to pick him up. 

\----

Once the address was stored safely away in the barn, Harry spent the rest of the day running scenarios through his mind. He could try calling Louis, but it seemed like such a big conversation to have over the phone. He could write, but not being able to see or hear Louis’ reaction didn’t sound appealing, not to mention the agony of waiting for a reply. 

As Harry lay in bed that night, he tossed and turned, unable to stop his brain from its constant churning. Finally, with a groan, he got up to make himself a glass of warm milk in the hopes of getting some sleep. As he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear his parents' low voices. 

Mama Jean sounded sleepy, but relaxed. “They seem t’ be gettin’ on real well, don’t they?”

“Sure do. Might have t’ talk t’ Harry ‘bout what his intentions are with her.”

“I’m surprised it took him so long t’ get himself a girlfriend, he’s such a handsome boy.”

Big Jim harrumphed at that, mumbling something before speaking more clearly again. “Well, he sure did need a push, but havin’ that Louis character ‘round sure wasn’t helpin’.”

Harry's heart jumped into his throat as he held his breath and strained to hear everything. 

“Well, everythin’s OK now.” From where he was hidden, Harry could make out the sound of Mama Jean’s pat, pat, pat on Big Jim’s thigh.

With a rumbling chuckle, Big Jim’s voice took on a mocking tone. “Shoulda seen him when I threw him out… didn’t have no excuse fer none a’ it. Just left with his tail between his legs.” He paused, as if he were remembering the moment, and then grunted, “Fuckin' fairy.”

“Jim! Language.”

Harry’s whole body went cold, as if someone had frozen him where he stood, slack-jawed with his eyes wide open, his heart pounding so hard he thought he might faint. Louis hadn’t left. Big Jim threw him out. Big Jim threw Louis out and knew he was gay. Did that mean they knew about Harry? 

As he silently snuck back to his room, his head was spinning. Big Jim had lied to his face, saying Louis left without a word. All this time Harry thought _he_ was the one who’d driven Louis away, but it was his own father who’d done it. And his mother _knew_ , and had done nothing. 

How could he stay in this house? How could he trust them? And worse than that, how could he ever be himself when clearly they hated something that was a part of who he was? He may not have ever said it aloud, but Harry knew he was gay. He knew he was pretending with Betty every time he held her or kissed her, and he just couldn’t do it one day longer. 

Harry began to realize he only had one choice. Quietly getting out of bed, he changed into a pair of comfortable trousers and a light sweater and began to pull the rest of his clothes from the drawers. Going into the closet, he pulled down a small tin that had once held toy soldiers, and pried off the lid. Inside was the money he’d been trying to save, it wasn’t much, but it should be enough to at least get started.

Looking around the room, his eyes drifted over the knick knacks he’d lived with his whole life. He sighed deeply––sadness washing over him as he realized he might not see them again after tomorrow. Unpinning a few photos of his family from the cork board, and grabbing the only photo of him with his birth parents from the frame on his bedside table, he slipped all of them in between the pages of a book and put that, along with a few other books and all of his clothes, into his duffel bag.

Taking the bag with him, he crept carefully downstairs and headed to the barn. Once he’d gotten everything he’d stashed under the floorboards there, he circled back to put the duffel bag on the floor in front of the passenger seat of his truck, and then went into the house to wait. 

Harry had barely slept by the time the sun began to rise. His stomach in knots, he tried to force down some toast and coffee as he waited for his parents to come downstairs. Running his fingers over a nick in the kitchen table, he smiled to himself remembering how he’d fallen into it as a child, smashing his favorite truck and broke it. Mama Jean had held him close as he cried and cried while Big Jim struggled to fix the toy. 

They loved him like he was their own. He’d told Louis that. Maybe things would be OK. As he heard footsteps overhead, Harry got up and set the coffee pot up again, filling it so the rest of the family could have their morning caffeine. 

“Well, good mornin’ darlin’. What’re y’ doin’ up so early? Come give Mama a hug.”

Harry sunk into her arms, his face buried in her neck, just taking in the soft scent of her hair and the warmth of her hands on his back. “I love ya, Mama.” 

His voice was muffled by her shoulder and she just laughed. “I know ya do, baby. I love y’ too. Come on now, Daddy’ll be right down, I gotta get breakfast movin’.” 

Chewing at his lip, Harry moved to let her reach the pots and pans so she could start to cook. 

“Somethin’s smellin’ good Jeanie…” Big Jim’s loud voice came around the corner before he did, and Harry’s heart began to beat faster. “Well, hey. Mornin’, son. Yer up early today. Yer sisters are being lazy, maybe y’ should go get ‘em up!”

Harry cleared his throat, as he stood there picking nervously at his cuticles. “Uh… actually, I had somethin’ I wanted to talk to y’all about. Maybe ya wanna sit down?”

A spoon went clattering to the floor as his mother turned around, hands clasped in glee. “Baby! Are y’ gonna ask Betty t’ marry ya?”

Harry went pale and reached a hand out to the table to steady himself as he sat down. “N- no mama. I ain’t. Come, sit.”

Frowning, Mama Jean sat down next to Big Jim and they both turned questioning eyes on Harry. 

“What’s eatin’ at ya, son? Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry said a silent prayer and then dove in. “Well, ya see, I been wonderin’ why exactly Louis left so suddenly…”

At the mention of Louis’ name his mother looked sharply at Big Jim, who’d leaned back from the table with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “I told ya, son. He didn’t leave no explanation. Just quit.”

Harry traced his finger over and over in the table dent. “The thing is, though, that don’t make much sense ‘cause I knew him pretty well, and I just don’t think he’d a’ done that.”

“You callin’ me a liar, boy?”

Harry looked over at his mother who was worrying the dish towel between her fingers with a frown on her face. “No, Daddy. I’m just sayin’ it seems strange, and I thought maybe there mighta been a reason ya didn’t wanna tell me.” 

Big Jim’s eyes narrowed as he pulled a toothpick out of his overalls and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. “Maybe there is.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up at Big Jim’s answer. “Can ya tell me please?”

Big Jim chewed on his toothpick and watched Harry steadily for a moment before he opened his mouth with a sneer. “Yer friend, Louis, is a homosexual, Harry. A pervert.” 

Harry’s breath hitched as he took that statement in. “H- he wasn’t a pervert, Daddy. He was… he was my _friend_ .” Hand on his heart, he caught the sob before it left his throat. “My _only_ friend.”

“Well, yer ‘friend’...” The way Big Jim said it made the word sound vile, his voice rising as he continued speaking. “He was writin’ perverted, disgustin’ things about ya in that little book of his. I ain’t about t’ let some fairy live under my roof havin’ thoughts like that about my boy!”

Harry just gaped at Big Jim and then at Mama Jean who was looking at her lap. “H- he never did nothin’ t’ hurt me, Daddy.” As his father sat stone-faced across the table and his mother wouldn’t meet his eyes, Harry let out a shaky breath and drew himself up straight. “He ain’t never did nothin’ to me I didn’t ask for. So… if he’s a disgustin’ pervert, then I guess ya think I am, too.”

“What the _hell_ are y’ talkin’ about, boy?” Big Jim’s voice was cold and frightening. “Are y’ tellin’ me that those _filthy_ things he wrote weren’t just his… his fantasizin’? 

“Jim, calm down.” Mama Jean put her hand on his arm, trying to settle him down.

“Don’t tell me t’ calm down, woman!” Standing up, Big Jim roared, arms flailing, making Harry’s mother flinch. “Yer son just admitted to bein’ a fuckin' homosexual! Admitted to defilin’ our home!”

“Language, Jim.” Mama Jean’s voice was wobbly as she automatically answered. 

“I defiled _nothin_ ’!” Harry stood up and screamed, his hand hitting the table top. “Nothin’ we did was filthy, or perverted. I- I loved him.” The admission caught Harry by surprise, tumbling out of his mouth a second time like a whisper. “I _love_ him.”

“But, baby…” Mama Jean interrupted Big Jim who looked ready to explode. “But what about Betty? You seemed so happy with her. Maybe you just haven’t tried hard enough.”

Harry’s eyes welled up, his voice softer. “I tried, Mama. Do ya really think I didn’t?” Tears were streaming down his face, as he gestured, palm up, towards Big Jim. “Do ya think I _want_ my Daddy t’ look at me that way? Do ya think I haven’t prayed about this? All I wanted was y’all t’ be proud of me…”

“Well, ya done screwed _that_ up, boy.”

“ _Jim!_ ” 

“Yer not livin’ in my house if that’s who y’ are, boy. I want ya out. _Now_ .” His face distorted with rage, Big Jim’s voice went through Harry like a knife. “It’s a good thing yer parents are dead, boy. They’d be so _ashamed_ to know how ya turned out.” 

He turned and left through the kitchen door, slamming it behind him. Harry just sunk into his chair with his face in his hands as he cried. He could hear Mama Jean opening and closing cabinets and moving things around and then he felt her kneel down on the floor next to him.

“Baby… look at me, baby. I- I can’t tell ya that I understand. ‘Cause I really don’t.” She stroked her hand through his hair. “But I know yer a good boy, and I love ya.”

Harry started crying harder and leaned against her and she pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“Yer Daddy’s not gonna listen t’ nothin. ‘Specially right now. So yer gonna have t’ go.” Harry hiccupped another sob and sniffled. “But here, baby… it's all I got, but it’s yers.”

She pulled his clenched hand open and pressed a wad of bills into his palm, closing his fingers back around it. 

“Now, ya take that and here, I packed y’ up some food. Take whatever else ya need before yer Daddy gets back.”

Getting out of his chair, Harry pulled her up to standing and wrapped his arms around her. “I love ya so much, Mama. Thank ya for everythin’. Not just the money, but everythin’ ya done fer me.”

“There ain’t nothin’ to thank me fer, darlin’. Yer my first baby, my only boy. I love ya.” She wiped her tears with her apron and made a shooing motion with her hand. “Now go on before I cry my eyes out. I’ll figure out what t’ tell yer sisters.”

“Oh, god… I- tell them I love them. So much. I’m so sorry.”

“They know, baby. They love ya just as much.” She sniffled as she wrung her apron in her hands. 

Slipping the money into his pocket, Harry took a last look around the kitchen and his mother standing by the stove, then walked towards the door.

“Oh, Harry?” Mama Jean smiled at him softly as he turned around. “Yer mama and daddy would _never_ a’ been ashamed of ya… they woulda loved ya just like I do.”

Harry nodded, wiping away a tear, and walked out the door, closing it gently behind him.

\-----

Getting into his truck, Harry made a U-turn and slowly drove away from the farm, watching his home get smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. Turning back to face the road, he wiped the tears from his face and took in a shuddering breath. He could do this. He was going to be alright.

Pulling into town twenty minutes later, he grabbed his duffel and locked the truck behind him. Scanning the street, he nodded to himself as he walked over to Carson’s soda shop. Old Mr. Carson knew his family well, Harry and his sisters had spent many hours hanging out there, and he knew he could count on him to do him this favor. 

“Well, good mornin’ there, Harry. How’re ya doin’?” Mr. Carson’s wide smile greeted him from behind the counter. “S’a bit early fer an ice cream, but what’ll ya have?”

“Morning, Mr. Carson. I actually came to ask a favor.”

His face turning more serious, Mr. Carson nodded. “Whatever ya need, son. What can I help ya with?”

“I parked my truck just outside there, ‘cross the street?” He pointed to his blue pick up parked outside. “I have t’ go somewhere by bus, so I was hopin’ ya could get a message t’ my mama later and let her know ya’ve got the keys so they can come pick it up.”

“Well sure, son. That’s no problem.” Taking the keys from him, Mr. Carson set them by the register. “Where ya headed?”

“Um… New York City, sir.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure now that he said it out loud. 

“Well! That’s _quite_ a trip. I hope ya have a good time and I look forward t’ hearin’ yer stories when ya get back.” Reaching his hand out to shake Harry’s he smiled warmly.

His voice thick with emotion, Harry nodded. “Th- thank ya, Mr. Carson. Ya’ve always been so kind t’ me. I appreciate it.”

Mr. Carson looked at him quizzically. “Y’ OK, son?”

Turning to leave, Harry smiled tiredly and nodded. “Yeah. I’m good, Mr. Carson. Thanks again for helpin’ me with the keys.”

Taking a deep breath as he closed the door behind him, Harry took a last look at his truck as he walked down the street to the Greyhound station. After checking the schedule, he grit his teeth and paid the $15 one way fare to New York. 

\----

Nearly 20 hours later, Harry had never felt so glad to stand up and move his body. Shuffling off the bus and merging into the enormous crowd inside Pennsylvania Greyhound Terminal, Harry’s heart started to pound. He’d never been anywhere with so many people forced so close together––it felt almost as though he wasn’t moving of his own accord, but was being propelled by the mass of people as they surged forward.

Eventually outside in the brisk October air, Harry took a deep breath and looked around, wide eyed, at the tall buildings and rushing crowds of people. He felt a slight panic grab hold of him, as he realized he had no idea where to go. Buying a street map from a vendor, he wedged himself in a doorway and tried to figure out a route.

Nearly weeping when he saw how long a walk it was, he nevertheless hitched his bag up on his shoulder and headed off, keeping his head down in the hopes of attracting as little attention as possible. He’d heard stories about New York and he was more than a little afraid. 

A little over an hour later he stood in front of 116 MacDougal Street, a red brick building with a saloon downstairs. Nervously chewing at his thumbnail, Harry scanned the nameplates at the side of the door. Trailing his finger over the names he stopped at the only familiar one… LW Tomlinson.

His heart began to pound again and his whole body felt wobbly. Dropping his bag on the stoop, he held on to the door frame to steady himself. All of this time crying and beating himself up, all this time dreaming about seeing Louis again, all this time wondering… and now Harry was standing on his doorstep and there was a part of him that suddenly became very afraid. 

Why had he just picked up and left Georgia with the assumption that Louis would want him here? Sure, he’d asked him to come months ago, but what if his feelings had changed? What if he had a new boyfriend? What if the story in The New Yorker had been just that––a story. 

Harry turned his back to the door and looked out across the street, watching a group of children play with a dog. Up the block a few women stood, talking. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of traffic and tried to imagine living here.

Startled by the sound of the door opening behind him, Harry nearly toppled over but caught himself on the bannister. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, darlin’. I din’t expect ta see ya there!” A small woman with a heavy Irish brogue was trying to make her way out of Louis’ building. “Are ya here ta see someone?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m lookin’ fer Louis Tomlinson, does he live here?”

Her nearly toothless smile lit up her face as she held the door open. “Tha’ he does! Lovely lad. He’s up in 4B. Go on.” 

Harry stepped around her, thanking her profusely as she left. And there he was, inside the vestibule of Louis’ apartment building. As his chest tightened up with nerves, he began the three story climb up to Louis’ apartment. 

After all this time, building it up in his mind, the outside of his apartment seemed so ordinary. A wooden door, painted maroon, gold plated metal marking it as “4B”, and a little welcome mat on the floor. Biting his lip, Harry raised his hand to knock just as the door swung open and Louis stood in front of him, his face morphing into an expression of complete shock.

“What the fuck? Harry! W- what are you doing here?”

As he dropped his hand, Harry’s brows furrowed with concern. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t’ surprise ya like that. Y’ were headin’ out... I- I can come back later.”

“No!” Louis flushed at the abrupt shout and then stepped aside gesturing for Harry to enter. “I mean… please don’t leave. I was going for a walk, nothing important. Please… come in. I- I was just surprised.” He pulled his hat off his head and hung it on a peg by the door. 

Stepping through the door, Harry placed his duffel bag on the floor, blushing as he realized how presumptuous he’d been. “I’m so sorry, Louis. I clearly didn’t think this through very well. It’s just...” He began to wring his hands as he looked around the tiny little apartment.

“Harry. It’s OK.” Louis’ voice was quiet as he brushed his hand along Harry’s shoulder, making him shiver. “I’m so happy to see you. Come, sit down. Can I get you some coffee or anything?”

“Oh, I’d love some coffee, if it’s not too much t’ ask.”

Walking towards the kitchenette, Louis smiled and shook his head. “Of course not, no trouble at all.”

Harry sat on the couch and took in where Louis lived. He’d never really let himself imagine it in detail, but everything about it felt just as he would have guessed. There were books everywhere, an old typewriter on the kitchen table with a stack of papers next to it. The furniture was mismatched, but comfortable and worn in a way that made it feel cozy instead of shabby. 

“The place isn’t much,” Louis said as he came back with two steaming cups. “But I can afford it on my own, which is probably the only luxury I allow myself.” He smiled softly as he watched Harry.

“It’s really nice, actually. I didn’t know what t’ expect, t’ be honest.” Harry clutched at the mug as he shifted awkwardly on the couch. 

They sat there in silence for a minute, just sipping their coffee, until Louis spoke softly. “Harry? What’s going on? Why are you here?”

Putting his coffee down and flushing again, Harry cleared his throat. “I know this is really unexpected, and I’m sorry I just showed up unannounced… it’s rude of me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, noticing that Louis’ eyes followed. “But… I thought callin’, or writin’, wasn’t quite the right way t’ do this, either.”

“I don’t understand. Do what? What happened, Harry?”

“Um… I read yer piece in The New Yorker.”

Louis’ eyebrows shot to his hairline. “I- wow. I didn’t expect that at all.”

Leaning forward and clasping his hands between his knees, Harry looked at him with some trepidation. “Did ya mean it? Did ya mean the things ya said?” 

Rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Louis let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, of course. I meant it all.” Biting his lip, he lowered his hands and looked at Harry with watery eyes. “I loved you, Harry. I _still_ love you.”

Tears started to roll down Harry's face as he listened to Louis. 

“I felt horrible leaving without saying goodbye, but…” He frowned and looked at his hands. “But I didn’t have a choice.”

Harry got up and moved to kneel by the armchair Louis sat in, putting his hand on Louis’ thigh. “I know what Big Jim did. He told me.”

“He _told_ you?”

“Well, I overheard him talkin’ to Mama Jean, and then I confronted them.”

Louis went pale. “Jesus. Harry. Big Jim is scary when he’s angry. What- what did you say?”

Shaking his head, Harry took both of Louis’ hands in his. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll tell ya later. But what matters is that I told him that I was just like y’ are, and that I was in love with ya.”

“Wait… you’re in love with me? You _told_ him that? Oh my god…”

“He wasn't too happy ‘bout that. Kicked me out fer good.” Harry looked over at his bag and nervously pulled his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “So I packed all my things and got the first bus up here, hopin’ ya’d be glad t’ see me.”

Louis stared silently at Harry as he kneeled before him, then cradled his face between his hands. “Baby… you have _no_ idea how glad I am to see you.”

Harry let out a choking sob as Louis leaned forward to kiss his face. First, the tears at the corners of Harry’s eyes, then each cheek, and finally, finally, he pressed a gentle kiss to Harry’s mouth. 

“I love you, baby… and I’ve missed you _so_ much.” Louis pulled back from kissing him, fully taking in Harry’s face, his voice dropping to a whisper. “We have so much to clear up and catch up on… I can’t believe you’re here!”

“I was so scared comin’ up here. I didn’t even really realize what I’d done until I was on the bus.” Harry ran his hand through his hair, mussing up his already wild curls. “I don’t know what I woulda done if ya’d turned me away.”

“Sweetheart… I’d never have done that to you.” Louis pulled back to take Harry in fully, shaking his head with a grin. “Christ, Harry. You’re so brave, braver than you know. Do you realize that?”

Leaning in to capture Louis’ lips with his own, Harry gasped as he kissed him. “I can’t believe I found ya. God, I need t’ touch ya, feel ya… I’ve missed everything about ya.” 

Louis continued to kiss him even as he attempted to move them towards the other room. “Bedroom… off the floor. Need you in my bed.”

Harry moaned at the thought, his cock already throbbing in his briefs. “Where?”

Pulling at each other’s clothing as Louis guided them to the bedroom, he slammed the door behind them and backed Harry up against it. Grabbing Harry’s wrists and pulling them up over his head, Louis ground his pelvis against him, pinning him to the door. 

“I’ve imagined this… imagined having you here, being able to touch you again.”

As Louis moved against him, Harry whined; unable to touch, all he could do was rut against Louis’ hardness.

“Yessss… want ya t’ touch me, touch me everywhere. Need ya, Louis… please.”

Letting Harry’s arms go and backing up a step, Louis pulled his sweater over his head as Harry did the same, leaving them both shirtless and breathing heavily. 

Louis’ mouth gaped as he stroked a hand across Harry’s chest. “God… I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are.”

As Louis moved, Harry caught a glimpse of something dark. Taking Louis’ hand in his, so he could see more clearly, Harry gasped and looked up in surprise. 

“W- what _is_ this? When…?”

Louis bit his lip, nervously. “Oh… I, um... it’s been almost 2 months?” 

Harry traced his finger over the delicate lines of ink that wrapped around Louis’ narrow wrist. Harry’s initials hidden inside the twisted rope of an infinity knot. Just like the carving he’d made for Louis their first time at the blueberry fields. 

Harry just stared at the tattoo. “Ya had my carvin’––my initials––tattooed on yer body? Even though ya thought we might never see each other again?”

Louis shrugged, a faint blush on his cheeks. “Well, I wanted a way to always have a bit of you with me. I knew I wasn’t going to regret having a reminder of you, of our time together… even if it made me sad, at first.”

Taking a deep breath, he pushed on. “It was me being honest about how I felt about you, and a reminder so that time doesn’t water down that memory, even if it was sad or difficult to see on my body sometimes.”

Harry felt tears well up again, and he rushed to brush them away as he pulled Louis towards him. “I love ya so much, Louis. I love ya so much sometimes I don’t know what t’ do with how much I feel.”

“I know...” Louis kissed along Harry’s neck, sucking a bruise near his adam’s apple. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to get you back, but I’m never letting you go again.”

Harry’s head lolled back, giving Louis more access. “Please… don’t leave me again.”

“Never. You’re stuck with me now.” Peppering kisses along his neck, Louis leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I want you so much. Want… want you to fuck me baby. I’ve been dreaming about _this_.”

As he said it, Louis’ hand moved to cup Harry’s cock, fingers running along his shaft, making Harry moan loudly as his legs went weak.

“Y- yeah? Ya sure?” Harry tried to focus on Louis’ face… but all he could take in was how beautiful his eyes were. “Don’t want it t’ be disappointin’. I- I ain’t done it before.”

“I know… but nothing you do could ever disappoint me. I want to feel you, all of you.”

“Fuck. Yeah… OK.” Harry began to hurriedly unbutton his trousers as Louis did the same with his own. “Want ya naked… need t’ touch ya.”

Finally free of all their clothes, Louis lay down on the bed and reached his arms out for Harry. “Come here, baby. Lay with me.”

Crawling over to him, Harry began to kiss Louis’ chest and down his stomach. “Gonna make love to ya, Lou. Gonna make ya feel so good.” 

Sighing happily, Louis ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Always make me feel so good…”

Taking the tip of Louis’ cock in his mouth, Harry whimpered at the familiar feel as he slowly took all of him down. Curling his tongue, he bobbed his head while gently stroking Louis’ balls. 

Whining, Louis thrashed his head on the pillow as he felt the blunt nails of Harry’s free hand run across his thigh and up to his hip. “Harry, please, want you inside me.”

“Yeah, yeah… OK.” Sitting up on his haunches, Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked at Louis, sheepishly. “Uh… ya gotta help me. I don’t know how t’ get ya ready.”

Louis smiled and sat up, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “I love you. And you’re so sexy when you ask me to help you.”

Stretching to his bedside table, Louis pulled out a small glass jar and unscrewed the lid. “You want me to do it and you watch? Or you wanna do it yourself?”

Licking his lips, Harry looked into Louis’ eyes, hungrily. “Me. I wanna do it. Just tell me what t’ do ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt ya.”

Holding the jar out for Harry, Louis made a scooping motion with his fingers. “Just take some like this, and rub it between your fingers a bit to warm it up.”

Harry followed directions, diligently, fascinated by his ability to take Louis apart just with his fingers. Slowly working him up to three, he moved them in and out of Louis’ body, wanting to learn what Louis liked best. As he continued to kiss along the insides of Louis’ thighs, he crooked his fingers just so, making Louis moan and his body arch, his golden skin becoming slick with sweat. 

Harry had never seen anything so beautiful. 

“Please... please, wanna feel you. Want you to fuck me.” Louis lay panting as Harry stilled his hand. 

“Yeah? Ya ready fer me?”

Louis peeked an eye open and grinned. “Been dying for you, baby. Come on, give it to me.”

Hissing at the pleasure that came from slicking up his own cock, Harry wiped his hands on the towel Louis had laid out and then lined himself up. Biting his lip, he slowly pushed against the resistance of Louis’ body, groaning deeply as he felt himself sinking in, inch by inch. 

“Holy shit… Lou- Louis.” Harry stared, slack-jawed, as the incredible heat and tightness of Louis’ body surrounded him. He’d never felt anything so good in his life. As his hips met the plush firmness of Louis’ ass, he paused, panting. 

“You OK, baby?” Louis let his legs wrap around Harry’s waist as he lay still, his body adjusting to the intrusion.

“Y- yeah. Just… it’s a little overwhelmin’.”

Louis chuckled a little, then groaned as it moved Harry inside of him. “You’re telling _me_. You’re… really big.” 

Harry’s brow furrowed as he looked down at where he was buried to the hilt inside of Louis. “Shit… are ya OK? Does it hurt? Ya want me t’ pull out?”

“No, no… just give me a minute. You fill me up so good. Can’t wait to feel you come.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to lose control. “P- please, don’t Lou. I’m not gonna last long as it is.”

Smiling wolfishly, Louis ran a hand along Harry’s arm. “Go on then, baby. Fuck me good. Show me how you use that thing.”

Groaning at his words, Harry slowly pulled back and pushed in again, only to moan louder at how good it felt. Picking up his pace, he wrapped his hands around Louis’ narrow waist and began to rock into him. 

Panting, Harry steadily pounded into Louis, harder and harder. “Ya look so beautiful, Lou… can’t believe I got ya back. Can’t believe I found ya. Love ya so much.” 

“So good… you feel so good. Never letting you go.” Louis pushed his hands up against the headboard to stop his head from banging into it as Harry continued to grind into him. “Love you, love you… Love you. Fuck you feel so good.”

“Please come for me, Lou… I can’t… I’m gonna come. Oh my god…” Digging his fingers into Louis’ hips, Harry felt himself let go, his body arching back as he pushed deeper into Louis’ body. Pulse after pulse, he shot off, feeling like he was never going to stop coming.

“Oh… oh god. Fuck.” Louis had barely put his hand around his cock before he started to come, too––the sensation of Harry filling him up, pushing him over the edge. The contractions of Louis’ body squeezing his cock over and over, made Harry whine with pleasure until, exhausted, he slowly pulled out and collapsed by Louis’ side. 

Panting, they both lay there, sweaty and sated, until Louis let out a big breath. “Well… we definitely need to do _that_ again.”

Harry giggled, and kissed Louis’ shoulder. Propping himself up on his elbow, he turned so he faced Louis more directly. “I love ya so much, Lou. I’m so sorry about what happened, but I ain’t never gonna let no one hurt ya again.”

“I love you, too, baby.” He gently kissed Harry’s lips, nipping at the bottom one, lightly. “No one can ever hurt either of us, as long as we have each other.”

Picking up Louis’ wrist to place a kiss to the center of his tattoo, Harry smiled softly. “Maybe it’s the struggle t’ be together that makes us appreciate it so much.”

Scratching the stubble along his jaw, Louis pursed his lips and sighed. “I wouldn’t wish this struggle on anyone, but, yeah…” Kissing Harry gently, he smiled. “Fighting for something makes you want to hold on to it that much more fiercely because you know how rare it is. I know I’d fight forever for even one more day with you.”

\----

_“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” - Mary Oliver_

Those early days in New York were some of the sweetest. They were deeply grateful for whatever fates had allowed them to find and keep each other, and their bond only grew stronger. As the months passed, Harry found himself using his camera more often, and becoming more sure of his talent with it. With Louis’ encouragement, he submitted some of his photos to various magazines and soon had a regular source of income. 

Harry took pictures of everything, children reveling in the summer relief of the spray of fire hydrants, the row houses on the Lower East Side resting in the shadow of the Manhattan Bridge, the contrast of the Fulton Fish Market set against the backdrop of city skyscrapers, couples flirting, couples fighting… anything and everything about New York that caught his attention. 

“Do ya still get the urge t’ move on, Lou?” They were laying out on the fire escape, enjoying the first cool breezes of the fall; Louis on a blanket, Harry with his head in Louis’ lap. “We’ve been here fer longer than I expected.”

Humming, Louis ran his fingers through Harry’s thick curls. “Feels different when I’m here with you, I guess. I haven’t felt that panic I used to. Why, though? You getting itchy to move on?”

“Not sure. I guess I’ve been thinkin’ about what it’d be like to take pictures somewhere new.” He sat up and turned to face Louis, elbow resting on his knee to prop up his chin. “I was daydreamin’ about what it’d be like t’ travel with ya.”

“Would be fun, I’m sure. Everything is fun when I’m with you.” Louis smiled, softly. “Did ya have something particular in mind?”

Biting his lip, Harry looked out at the windows of the apartments across the street from theirs. “I was thinkin’ kinda crazy thoughts, really.” He turned to face Louis again. “Remember when you first came down t’ Georgia and that magazine had sent ya?”

Louis nodded with a questioning look.

“Well… do ya think we could get someone to pay us t’ go places and write and photograph them? Kinda like… takin’ people on an adventure with us?” At Louis’ surprised look, Harry’s heart rate picked up. “Like, we could do periodic updates. Or write a book. Or somethin’ like that.”

Harry lay back down, gesturing excitedly with his hands “We could go t’ Paris and t’ Morocco and t’ San Francisco… wherever. We would be free, able to be movin’ ‘round for as long as we wanted…”

Louis bent down to kiss his forehead. “But we’d have each other, so it’d be like bringin’ a bit of home with us.”

Twisting to see Louis’ face, Harry beamed. “Exactly. Whaddya think?”

Running his fingers over the anchor Harry had tattooed on his own wrist, Louis’ smile matched his own. “I think it sounds amazing.”

\----

_“It was the time when they loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other mortal trials, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore. ”_

Harry closed the book he was reading and looked at Louis. “That part always makes me think of us… of when I first found you again in New York.”

Smiling, Louis pulled him in so Harry’s back was to his chest. “We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we baby?

Harry hummed as Louis kissed along his neck and shoulder. “We have. We’ve had some amazin’ adventures, too, though. Remember when we first left New York and headed to New Orleans?”

Frowning, Louis poked Harry in the ribs. “I loved New Orleans, but Tennesee Williams was just a bit too fond of you.”

Giggling, Harry turned in Louis’ arms and kissed him, deeply. “No one could ever take me away from you, baby.” Settling in against Louis’ chest again, Harry sighed. “It was such a good idea to base those early travel plans on where our favorite books had taken place. I loved photographin’ cities that way.”

“It _was_ a great start. Sometimes I still can’t believe where we’ve ended up.”

“What do you mean? Are you sayin’ you didn’t completely expect to be able to make a livin’ travelin’ the world with me for 30 years?” Harry grinned as he leafed through the book in his lap. 

“No, you wiseass. I didn’t. And I didn’t expect your photos to fill coffee table books and hang in galleries––even though I knew you deserved it.”

Harry harrumphed, mock offended as he listened. “Well, I _always_ knew you’d write best-sellin’ novels inspired by our adventures.”

Pulling Harry down so they were lying next to each other on the couch, Louis laughed. “Sure you did, baby.”

“I _did_! You know I’ve been your biggest fan from day one.”

Louis gave him a peck on the cheek. “That’s true. I apologize.”

“Our lives could make a pretty good book. What do you think you’d say if you wrote _our_ story? How would you end it?”

“Hmmm… maybe something like:

_As times changed, they began to focus their work on documenting life from an LGBT perspective––from the Stonewall Riots to the heady days on New York’s Fire Island._

_They were, of course, deeply in love and deeply devoted to each other, their bodies eventually covered in complementary tattoos. Never apart for more than a few days at a time, friends joked that they’d probably be buried holding hands._

_As it turned out, they lived a very long and very happy life together._

_And they’re probably still holding hands, wherever they are.”_

“S’beautiful, Lou. Was expecting something dirtier, though.’ Harry squawked as Louis hit him with a throw pillow, the two of them dissolving into giggles. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my lord, I can't believe this fic is finished. There's so much of me in this one... it's based, in part, on my grandfather's life, and in part on the way my father wooed my mother (Harry isn't the only one turned on by Camus LOL!), so it means so much to me that you gave it a chance. I hope you enjoyed it and, if you did, kudos and/or a comment would absolutely make my day! You can reblog the fic post [here](https://twopoppies.tumblr.com/post/623572993800536064/an-invincible-summer-e-44k-by-brookynbabylon) and retweet [here](https://twitter.com/twopoppies_art/status/1282831110762663939?s=20). If you're interested, you can see my inspiration posts for this fic [here](https://twopoppies.tumblr.com/search/an+invincible+summer) and come say hi on [Tumblr](http://www.twopoppies.tumblr.com) if you'd like!  
> xo Gina
> 
> \------
> 
> The quote at the beginning of the chapter is from **The Rebel** by Albert Camus  
> The title of Louis' article is taken from this quote from **The Rebel** by Albert Camus: _“We all carry within us our places of exile, our crimes and our ravages. But our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to fight them in ourselves and in others.”_  
>  The quote at the beginning of Louis' article is from **A Single Man** by Christopher Isherwood (which I know Louis said he read a few years prior, and the book wasn't actually published yet in 1946, but go with me on this)  
> Louis' article was written by me with apologies to Daphne Du Maurier for co-opting the first line of Rebecca.  
> The quote at the end of Louis article is from Mahatma Ghandi  
> The Mary Oliver quote is from her poem **The Summer Day**.  
> The quote that starts the epilogue is from **Love in the Time of Cholera** by Gabriel García Márquez
> 
> **  
> **All the books listed throughout this fic can be found[here](https://twopoppies.tumblr.com/post/623578994167660544/an-invincible-summer-book-list-there-are-a-bunch)**  
> **
> 
> Some really lovely people made moodboards for this fic. You can find them [here](https://twopoppies.tumblr.com/post/628736537367085056) and [here](https://twopoppies.tumblr.com/post/623909619290587136/hl-larry-fics-on-twitter-made-this-lovely-mood)


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